


Anarchy in the US

by Winter_Genisis



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alpha/Alpha Relationship, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Animal Characteristics, Animal Ears, Animal Tail, Animalistic, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Modern human AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pheromones, Soulmate AU, autistic ludwig, baby ludwig
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 00:37:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9794597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winter_Genisis/pseuds/Winter_Genisis
Summary: Gilbert is an alpha living with his brother, Roderich (omega) and his alpha mate, Elizaveta, in a small apartment. To make everything more complicated, Gilbert is almost single-handedly raising a little boy named Ludwig. He's struggling with two jobs and college, and his flatmates don't make it easy on him, as the mated pair is fighting more often than not, which drags Gilbert into the fray as the other alpha.Arthur is an alpha divorcee living in a small apartment with his son, Alfred. His ex-wife, Francine, has Alfred's twin with her in France, and is trying to get custody of Alfred as well. As a struggling writer and musician, and waiting tables at a local greasy spoon, Arthur doesn't bring in much income and his prospects look especially bleak after he is kicked out of his apartment with help from a certain albino.WIth help from loyal friends and family, these two soul mates will attempt to break societal norms by being two mated alphas, and will try their damnest to do right by their kids, and to get more out of life for themselves.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N:
> 
> So! This is the glorious beginning of a new fanfiction! This chapter’s pretty short compared to how I finished up Closure, Or Something Like It, but that’s fine. Takes less time to edit.
> 
> I don’t really know what to say about this except that it’s an introductory chapter. Nothing much takes place, it just sort of introduces the characters and sets up chapter 2. Hopefully it captures your interest all the same!
> 
> I’m trying my hand at a Ludwig with (as of yet)  undiagnosed high functioning autism, so feedback would be great! I used my own personal experience as I have dated a young man with autism for an extensive period of time (I thought something was a little off about him, but was not aware he was autistic until he told me. He did give me lots of valuable information from his childhood, however.) as well as my own research. Please PLEASE PLEASE give me feedback if you know anything about autism! Each case is unique but I tried to filter in some common things, like lack of eye contact and the inability to make an appropriate facial expression in many situations. I like to think though the Ludwig is high functioning enough to be able to detect the meaning of pheromones being released, even if he may not be able to put a name to feelings it gives him. I like to think that he can interpret pheromones better than facial expressions, and I think half the time those are what he’s responding to, rather than facial expressions or the confusing emotions and mysterious feelings of others.
> 
> For reference: Gilbert is an albino Sarloos wolfdog, Ludwig is a blond German shepard, Roderich is a black German Shepard, and Liz is a brindle Hungarian greyhound.
> 
> Writing playlist: Gotta Get Away by The Offspring; Necrosis by Future World Music; I'm So Sorry by Imagine Dragons; Run Boy Run by Woodkid

 “I just wanted to ask you… Is everything okay at home?”

The question took Gilbert completely off guard, and the surprise was evident in his pale features. “Excuse me?”

The teacher looked down and away, her fluffy tortoiseshell ears pushed flat against her curly brown hair. “It’s just… Ludwig, he’s been… having a bit of trouble.”

Gilbert growled quietly as his red eyes found the young boy. Ludwig clung to the albino’s leg, pointedly looking at his feet. Sharply pointed blond ears, too big for the little boy, were pressed against his head, and an equally blond tail was shoved tightly between his legs. He’d done something, and knew he was in trouble for it. 

Gilbert pinned a sidelong glare on the teacher. She shrunk back a bit -- he was still growling. “What exactly has Ludwig done?”

“H-he doesn’t listen and pay attention, he’d rather be off on his own than working together in a group. He rarely speaks. And recently, when he _does_ speak, he’s started to talk back. H-he’s normally a sweet boy, even if he’s a bit introverted… But even so,” And here, she leans in to Gilbert closely, gaze flickering momentarily at the child. “He hasn’t made any friends... so I just wondered…”

Gilbert gave a curt nod and glanced down at Ludwig. He was still looking away, but now his face had gone red.

“Is this true, brat?”

Slowly, Ludwig nodded. He wouldn’t meet Gilbert’s eyes.

“We’ll talk about this.” He hissed, another growl rising under his breath. “But for now, I want you to apologize to your nice teacher for everything. She’s concerned about you. And I want you to tell her that you will behave from now on, and do as she asks without complaint.”

Ludwig raised his eyes, big blue orbs that Gilbert was shocked and dismayed to find were full of tears, even though he was giving them both a big smile. He could not handle Ludwig crying, he absolutely could not.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Moore.” He couldn’t seem to hold her gaze… but that wasn’t unusual for him.

“For what?” Gilbert prompted.

“For my behavior.”

“Yeah, now put it all together.”

“I’m sorry for my behavior, Mrs. Moore.” His voice was shaking now, and when Ludwig looked up to Gilbert to see how he’d done, tears streaked his fat, ruddy cheeks as he smiled too hard up at his brother. Gilbert’s heart absolutely broke.

He sighed, attempting to muster control to resist, at least somewhat. He gently pet the boy’s head with a murmur of _good boy_ , and kneeled down beside him. Ludwig huffed a loud sigh -- he didn’t appreciate physical gestures very much, but he tolerated them from Gilbert. With a soft touch the albino wiped some of Ludwig’s tears away. “Big boys don’t cry.” He quietly admonished.

When Gilbert stood again, the teacher was smiling. “You’re so good with him.” She murmured, before turning her smile to Ludwig. “It’s okay, sweetie. I forgive you. Can you be good for me from now on? Like you are with your big brother?”

Ludwig looked up to her with the most earnest expression, and gave a nod.

Gilbert gave a short as well, and grabbed Ludwig’s hand. “I really need to drop him off at home and get to work but --” He glanced at Ludwig and sighed. “If there’s anything else, or he starts misbehaving again, just give me a call. You have my cell number.”

The teacher’s ears perked up and she nodded. “Of course, Mr. Beilschmidt.”

“Just Gilbert. I don’t feel like a _mister_.”

The small woman laughed lightly as the two walked away. Gilbert wasn’t smiling. He could feel the boy’s apprehension rising in the distress pheromones that he released. They got into the car -- it was Roderich’s, not Gilbert’s, as Gilbert was worried about putting the little boy on a motorcycle just yet -- and as soon as the albino shut the door, he spoke, switching to German.

“Now tell me what’s wrong.”

The boy’s distress pheromones wavered and sputter. He remained quiet, and when Gilbert looked through the rearview mirror, he could see the boy looking at him with cautious curiosity, his ears now ramrod straight and swiveled towards Gilbert. Though when he was caught looking he tore his eyes away and to the window. Gilbert sighed. Obviously he’d been expecting a tongue lashing, and was confused at this turn of events.

Gilbert sighed, his big white ears relaxing and drooping slightly. “Mrs. Moore is right -- you are a good boy, Ludwig. That’s why I’m asking. While I know you aren’t very talkative, it’s not normal for you to misbehave like that.” Every so often he did bad things and talked back -- he was only five after all -- but he was widely well-behaved, sweet and obedient. Soft-spoken, certainly, but keenly observant.

“I don’t know. I’m… I’m... Not happy. I don’t think I’m happy. Happy is good.” It was a very slow, thought out response. A cold fear gripped Gilbert’s heart. He wasn’t moving quickly enough.

“Hey… is this about… ya know. Is this about Aunt Liz and Uncle Rod?”

Ludwig stared quietly at the back of Gilbert’s head in response.

“Look, Lutz. I know it’s tough. I do. It’s not easy for me, either. But just think: we’ll be leaving soon. And then they can’t bother us anymore.”

“Uncle Rod told me I was a nuisance yesterday.” Hot flames of anger erupted in Gilbert’s chest, melting and replacing the cold fear. “He started crying.”

He was drinking again, Gilbert would bet his left hand on it.

“Roderich doesn’t mean it.” Except the albino knew he really, really did.

“He doesn’t?” The response was quiet, but full of hope.

Gilbert felt guilty. “Regardless, you can’t just--”

“I hate everyone.”

That effectively ripped Gilbert into a shocked silence.

“You’re the only person I don’t hate.”

“You don’t hate Uncle Toni or Aunt Chiara…”

“I do…” He trailed off weakly. It was just bluster from the little boy… He was very angry and sad, and sometimes had trouble showing these feelings or speaking about them, unless it was through extremes.

Gilbert sighed, defeated. “I don’t know what to do.” He admitted, then immediately regretted it. This kid in the backseat was _five_ , and Gilbert needed to take care of him, not spill his problems on the little boy. “This is just a rough patch. We’ll get through this, and move out soon. I just need to work more, get a little more money. I almost have enough. Won’t it be great when we live all alone?” He plastered a toothy grin on his face, and glanced back into the rearview mirror. His face fell as he watched Ludwig staring vacantly out the window.

“If you’re my brother, how are you adopting me?”

The question was… unexpected to say the least. And a stab of guilt wormed its way into Gilbert’s heart. He… wasn’t actually in any way related to Ludwig.

“Because,” He replied, voice full of false cheer. “I’m an adult! And our parents are dead… so it’s okay! As long as the nice lady that comes to visit us is satisfied with us.”

“I don’t like that stupid babymaker.”

Gilbert swerved over to the side of the road and practically slammed on the breaks. It took a good second for his mind to catch up with him, but when it did, he glared coldly back at Ludwig, menace radiating from his every pore. Ludwig responded with a whine, shrinking back into the seat with a small smile.

“ _What_ did you just say?”

Ludwig quickly averted his eyes, and said nothing.

“I feel like you know that was a bad thing to say.”

Ludwig glanced at Gilbert quickly, once, then twice, and the third time shakily held the gaze. “B-but I-I -- I didn’t swear. And that’s what she is.”

“Who taught you that?”

He bowed his head with a small chuckle. “A classmate.”

“Is that how you think of--” Shit, he had to pick an omega that wasn’t Roderich. “Of Chiara? Or her little sister? A useless babymaker, good for nothing but having and raising kids?”

Ludwig quickly shook his head, laughing even harder.

“Do you think Alphas are better than omegas? Is that why you’re laughing? Do you think this is funny?”

Ludwig shook his head again still laughing, but attempting to stifle it, perhaps realizing Gilbert didn’t appreciate it.

“More important? Smarter? More deserving to be listened to and taken seriously?”

“No, no! That’s not what I meant! You’re changing it, you’re changing what I said!” Ludwig bawled with laughter. “I don’t like the lady, I hate her!” He roughly kicked out at the back of Gilbert’s seat.

“When you say things like _babymaker_ , it’s called being _derogatory_ . When you say something like that about one omega, you show that you have the same attitude towards _all_ omegas. If you don’t like her, there are other things you could say -- like that she’s mean. Or ugly.”

Ludwig snorted, and nodded seriously. “She _is_ ugly…”

Gilbert grinned, pulling back onto the road. “But you understand, right? You can’t say things that refer to whole groups of people like that. Like… it’s okay to say that someone is an omega, or an alpha or a feline, or whatever. As long as you’re just saying it conversationally, like… Roderich is an omega canine. Just saying things like that, it’s fine.”

He couldn’t see Ludwig’s expression as he changed lanes, but he could hear the frown in the boy’s voice. “I think I get it…”

Gilbert sighed. He knew the boy didn’t mean to say such a mean thing -- he was sensitive and kind, and if he hurt another child’s feelings it was more likely that Ludwig would start crying. It’d happened before, and Ludwig hadn’t even known what he’d said or done wrong. There were just some things he had to teach Ludwig before society got the boy in its cold, cynical grip.

“Well… that aside. How was school, kiddo?”

A quiet sigh. “Boring! I knew everything already.”

It was Gilbert’s turn to frown.

“All the kids are so stupid.”

“Ludwig, they’re not stupid. It’s not their fault that you know more than them. 

“They’re stupid because it takes so long for them to learn anything.”

Gilbert knew this was a _huge_ part of the problem. Once Ludwig got into the first grade, he’d probably end up skipping a grade… or three. He was _too_ smart, and that was a big reason he didn’t pay attention in class, and resented doing activities he felt were beneath him. Gilbert was genuinely concerned both about this behavior, and about the fact that Ludwig was obviously the smartest person in his class. He was worried that so much time spent without stimulating the child’s mind would affect him adversely. That, or he would just be further alienated from his peers as he continued to rise above them.

But unfortunately, it was nothing that he could help. He was raising this child alone (for the most part), and even if Ludwig wasn’t _really_ an orphan, he was just as good as one. No one knew who the father was, and his mother couldn’t stand to look at him. Even thinking about the little boy’s situation was making him sad.

Gilbert sighed, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He loved this little boy like a son. He just wanted to do right by him. Truth be told, Gilbert used to have dreams. In the marines, he often thought about being an engineer, and on the side playing in a band. But dreams and gambles just didn’t seem as important when he had a child thrust upon him so aggressively. Ludwig was Gilbert’s whole life, now.

“Are you okay?” The small voice from the back seat shocked him out of his reverie. He gave Ludwig a startled smile, hoping that he didn’t appear sad. He must have been releasing enough negative pheromones to cause Ludwig to wonder. He wouldn’t have asked otherwise.

“Of course, kiddo! I’m always awesome!”

Ludwig frowned. “I know.” Gilbert sighed. The kid was so off-putting sometimes. He’d learned to interpret which facial expressions meant what, but it was still just unsettling at times to see such a discordant expression for the situation at hand.

“We’re almost there, buddy.”

Silence met him. Which wasn’t unusual, but…

“I want to stay with you.” Ludwig replied quietly in English. They did this every single day.

“German, Lutz.”

“I want to stay with you.” Ludwig repeated, this time in German and more forcefully.

“You can’t. You know you’re not allowed.”

They went back and forth like this for the remainder of the car ride, a short five minutes or so. Gilbert groaned inwardly but kept a stern, almost icy exterior. When he parked, Ludwig started screaming. Unfortunately, this was normal, too. _Shouldn’t he have grown out of this clinginess already? Shouldn’t he be alright with staying here without me? He had Liz and Rod for the first three years of his life. Why aren’t they good enough for him anymore? Why do we do this every single day?_

He dragged Ludwig from the car seat, tucked the boy under his arm and kicked the door shut.

“C’mon.” He spoke softly despite Ludwig’s kicking and screaming. He was a strong little bugger. “We’ll get you a snack and then I have to go to work.”

“No!” He screamed. There was a tiny, high sound bubbling from his throat, vibrating in his chest, and Gilbert realized with amusement that Ludwig was _growling_. He’d never growled before that Gilbert had heard.

Stifling his laughter into a loud snort, Gilbert unlocked the door and tossed the blond on the couch. A big, black dog careened into the entryway, only to nearly slam into Gilbert’s legs. He whined and aggressively licked the man’s pale hand.

“Hey, Fritzi.” Gilbert greeted him with a smirk. Then he looked back to Ludwig. “I’ll go grab some pudding for you, okay? But only if you promise to behave.”

Ludwig tried to dry his tears before giving a petulant nod. Clearly, he didn’t care much about getting the snack. Gilbert hid his frown until he was in the kitchen, but it only deepened when he saw Roderich.

The omega was sitting at the table, head lying across his arms and three empty bottles of liquor in front of him.

“Liza?” He slurred, looking blearily up at Gilbert.

“No, asshole.” The albino hissed. “Do you think you could go into your room? The kid’s home.”

Roderich huffed, and laid his head back down, cool dark blue eyes regarding Gilbert blankly.

The albino curled a lip in disgust. “I don’t like having to do this,” He murmured with a strong undercurrent of menace, “But you _will_ go to your room. You will not show your face around Ludwig like this.”

Roderich picked his head up again, something igniting in his eyes at the authoritative tone and the commanding, almost threatening pheromones.

“I’ll clean up, here. You just leave.”

Roderich glared, but shakily got to his feet. “This is _my_ house.” He hissed.

“Your shitty apartment, you mean. And I pay rent, so it’s mine for now as well.” Was Gilbert’s matter of fact reply, and the omega’s glare sharpened.

Gilbert took the bottles as Roderich left the room, rinsing them and throwing them into the recycling bin. He sighed, attempting to calm his pheromones as he grabbed a spoon from the silverware drawer. He brought the pudding and spoon back out to Ludwig, who was sitting quietly now and staring at Gilbert. There was a certain level of knowing in those calm, observant eyes, and Gilbert knew instantly that he’d smelt the aggressive pheromones. He sighed again, sitting next to the blond and sending out calming pheromones.

“Uncle Rod is drunk again, isn’t he?”

Gilbert just nodded.

“Have he and Aunt Liz been fighting again?”

“I think so.”

“Oh.” The little boy smiled gently into his pudding cup. “You say talking it out is the right thing to do. So how come they don’t do it? Is it hard for them to talk about stuff, too?”

Gilbert grimaced inwardly, and one of his ears flicked outwards, then back upright. “Listen…” He debated for a moment about trying to explain the intricacy of relationships and having adult emotions, which were more nuanced and complex than a simple and straightforward reaction from a young child. But he was rather poor with words when it came right down to it… and he didn’t have time. “You’re absolutely right, they should talk it out. I’ll… I’ll talk to them about that, okay?”

Ludwig frowned gravely, and he nodded.

“Hey, I have to go now, okay? Dinner is in the refrigerator, and you have juice boxes in there as well. It’s a Friday, and you don’t have school tomorrow, but make sure to get to bed by nine. Brush your teeth for a whole two minutes okay? And get a glass of water _before_ bed so that you don’t get up in the middle of the night.”

Ludwig sighed and nodded into his pudding. “I know, I know.”

Gilbert smiled faintly. The poor thing was just too mature for his age. He stood to leave, only to have Fritzi prance from foot to foot, licking his lips and whining softly at his master.

He patted the dog on the head. “I’ll feed you when we get home.” He placated. “I’ll walk you, too. How’s that?” With a last loving stroke, he grabbed his keys and headed for the door. “Bye, Ludwig. Love you.” The boy didn’t reply, didn’t even look at him. But Gilbert hadn’t expected him to.

* * *

 When Gilbert got home late that night, he could hear the screaming all the way down in the parking lot. He sighed heavily, his thoughts immediately landing on poor little Ludwig. Hopefully the boy was sleeping through this.

As soon as Gilbert opened the door he shut it, avoiding an empty glass bottle that crashed against the door frame. This time, more tentatively, he pried the door open, peeking inside before slamming it open.

“What the fuck!” He snarled, practically throwing his keys on the table by the door. “You almost fucking hit me with that!”

Roderich shrank back, though his eyes held sharp menace in them. “Good.” He spat.

Gilbert narrowed his eyes, stomping over to Roderich, pheromones raging with aggression and hostility. “Care to say that again, you shitty little --”

Suddenly he was slammed against the wall, only to see Elizaveta, who snapped her teeth in his face. It took everything not to flinch on instinct.

“Don’t fucking touch my omega!” She growled 

In response, Gilbert tackled her to the ground, and Elizaveta narrowly avoided a bite that would have taken a chunk out of her face. She rolled Gilbert over onto his back, and went for his throat, but missed by a hair’s breadth. Summoning all his strength, Gilbert lept up at her, toppling her and pinning her by the neck to the floor, his red eyes shimmering with animalistic rage. He stopped abruptly, however, when he heard a soft sniffling sound that caught him off guard. Elizaveta used his distraction to her advantage and punch him in the face, before flipping him and kneeling over his back.

 

“Not in front of the kid!” Gilbert squawked, just as Ludwig’s chubby legs carried him across the room. He careened into Elizaveta with all his might, who caught his weight effortlessly. She gave a surprised stutter that might have been words, but she had no chance to form them. Ludwig snarled, long and low, confronting her head on in defense of his big brother. A muffled _shit_ could be heard where Roderich was in the kitchen, and Elizaveta made another sound, something confused and unsure as her pheromones were forced to switch suddenly from aggressor to protector. 

“Luddy,” she murmured, her Hungarian accent heavy in her emotion. “Luddy I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to scare you." 

“Yeah.” Gilbert affirmed as Elizaveta blessedly got off of him. She held Ludwig in her arms, and though Ludwig struggled and screamed, Gilbert was comfortable in the knowledge that she wouldn’t dare hurt Ludwig. The woman was a bitch, but she treasured the boy dearly and if it concerned him, she proved a better ally and caretaker than Roderich. “Look, see? We’re friends.” He offered Elizaveta as convincing of a smile as he could manage, and to her credit, Elizaveta smiled back.

Ludwig grinned almost ferally -- there was an edge of viciousness to the smile. Gilbert shivered. Sometimes -- like now -- Ludwig’s expressions were downright creepy.

“Hey.” Gilbert murmured softly. He tried to ignore the way his face felt like it was swelling. “Let’s put you back to bed, okay?”

Ludwig continued to grin at Gilbert, tilting his head just slightly. He knew that the adults were only trying to get him out of the way, and he’d once expressed as much to Gilbert. Yeah… too smart for his own good, he was.

“You don’t want to, do you?” Elizaveta asked with no little amount of concern. “Honey, it’s okay. I know I hurt Gilbert, and I’m sorry. It wasn’t fair of me, either, since he was distracted when I did it.”

Ludwig turned his gaze up to Elizaveta, a tiny growl bubbling from his chest even though he could not maintain eye contact this time. Elizaveta flashed Gilbert a concerned look, and the albino returned it. Ludwig _should_ be able to hold eye contact while challenging an alpha. The three of them and the doctor agreed that Ludwig showed signs of being an alpha, though it was too early to tell. As such, either something was very wrong with him, or Ludwig just wasn’t an alpha.

“I don’t care.” Ludwig muttered childishly. “Say sorry to my brother.”

Elizaveta smiled wryly and looked to Gilbert. “I’m sorry, Gil.” She wasn’t, and they both knew that, which was fine -- just so long as Ludwig was led to believe otherwise. That was all either of them cared about.

“It’s fine, Liza.” He replied, trying for an amicable tone. “I forgive you.”

“Hey Luddy,” Elizaveta hedged, “You know… punching people and fighting isn’t very nice. We were wrong to behave like that. Hurting people is bad, okay?”

Ludwig _hmphed_ , and gave her an impish grin. “Of course I know that. I’m five, not stupid.”

“Ludwig.” Gilbert snapped. “Watch your mouth. That’s not how you talk to people.”

“I’m angry!” He finally exploded with a punch aimed at Gilbert. “I don’t care about how to talk to people!”

Gilbert groaned. “Okay. You’re angry, and you have every reason to be angry.” Elizaveta nodded in agreement. “But it’s how you deal with your feelings, like anger, that makes you a big boy. Okay? You need to remain calm and composed.”

Ludwig screwed up his face and tried to stop angry tears from falling. A moment passed, then two, and finally, he said, “Okay.” The voice was utterly devoid of emotion, and Gilbert worried that maybe he’d said the wrong thing.

There was no way Ludwig was going to sleep at this point. He sighed.

“Hey.” He started. “Do you want to be a big boy and stay up late with me tonight? You can help with the laundry.”

Ludwig’s eyes lit up at the prospect of being able to be a big boy and help his brother. He nodded quickly and squirmed, Elizaveta finally letting him free.

Gilbert only said that to distract Ludwig, in all honesty. When Ludwig was struggling to put on his coat all by himself, Elizaveta gave him an inquisitive look. He just shrugged helplessly at her, and heaved the bag of laundry onto his shoulder. He didn’t really _have_ to do laundry, so he’d combined everyone’s dirty clothing into a single load. What he really wanted was to hunker down in the futon with a beer and his homework… but obviously that wasn’t going to happen. He sighed as he left, Ludwig “helping” him to carry the laundry bag down the stairs. With kids, things like this happened, and it was fine. Finding his soulmate was a bit… far fetched. But sometimes, he just wished he had a mate to share Ludwig with. He wasn’t a burden, nothing like that, but sometimes...

Gilbert gave a wistful sigh and threw the laundry in the trunk, before scratching the birthmark on his back that someone, somewhere, supposedly had a duplicate of. It was fine. Really. He didn’t actually need anyone. ****


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> This is where I'm going to refer you to the A/B/O writing I just released. It explains the rules of this universe for A/B/O, soulmates, relationships, etc etc. It would be very useful to go and read that, actually, so that I don't have to lowkey explain literally every single thing in notes or worse: the fic itself. Here is the link, I only wanna post it on one site so yeah. https://www.wattpad.com/376725270-the-universe-of-anarchy-in-the-us Forgive me, it's not edited.
> 
> But onward.
> 
> I am literally the least fucking consistent writer. Sometimes I just forget how to write and I feel like this is one of those chapters. You may find that my writing changes 2 or 3 times in here. I seriously just want to do it over but I also can't be bothered, to be honest... So... I feel like an apology is in order. I did my best to fix what i could where I could but I honestly just hate how I wrote this chapter. I have no idea why but it was excrutiating to write.
> 
> So I put an OC in this chapter. I bet you can't guess what Nation/Duchy/Principality or whatever he represents! Try though!!! Comment and tell me who you think he is, and how, if at all, he relates to the characters in the fic!
> 
>  
> 
> Arthur has characteristics of a cymric cat, and Alfred has those of an American wirehair. Antonio is is Burgos pointer, and Chiara (fem Lovino) is a ragdoll cat.
> 
> Songs for writing the chapter included but were not limited to: Black Honey by Thrice; Kill Everybody by Skrillex; Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites by Skrillex; Icarus by Ivan Torrent (ft. Julie Elven)

Gilbert looked at Ludwig in the backseat, the boy shivering with cold. The heater didn't work, and all either of them had were used winter coats that had seen better days. Gilbert's coat was good enough for him, and that aside, he could handle the cold. He'd grown accustomed to early morning training in the marines, when frost covered the grounds and the air relentlessly bit at his skin until he worked up a sweat. But he just _knew_ Ludwig's coat wasn't keeping him warm enough. He wished the little boy had a hat, scarf and gloves to go with it. Perhaps _especially_ gloves, if he had to pick just one thing. He'd have to ask Elizaveta to go somewhere and try to get some cheap --

Gilbert swirved suddenly, causing a squeak from Ludwig.

"Hey, hey it's okay." The albino was immediately sending out calming pheromones, scents that blanketed the vehicle in safety and security, before Ludwig even had a chance to become more than startled.

There was a sharp, terrible pain on his back, right over his left kidney. He ground his teeth together, panic lancing through him but trying his damnest not to release any distress signals in the car. He didn't understand what was wrong, and more than panicking about it he hoped to whatever god listening that he wouldn't have to be hospitalized. He was raising a kid, didn't have a mate, and neither of his jobs gave him good benefits. His job as a mechanic was low pay and grueling work, and though he got insurance from it, it was bare minimum. It wouldn't be good enough. Of course he didn't get _any_ insurance from bar tending part time, so that was no help. He just knew he sure as _fuck_ couldn't trust his parents _or_ Roderich to raise this little pup in his absence.

He pressed forward. The pain wasn't unbearable by any stretch, though it hurt like a bitch. He took a slow, deep breath, attempting to ground and focus himself in the moment, only to have the weariness and exhaustion from his day to day life crash down on him all at once at the exhale. The streetlights on the highway blossomed into the black of night like old, faded yellow bruises. It felt like forever was contained within each stark black strip of asphalt. Gilbert didn't know it was possible to _be_ so weary, so _tired_ , so _incredibly done_ with everything. He would have turned around and just gone back home, arguments be damned... but for the way it felt as though he was being tugged forward. Right alongside the dread and hopelessness he was struggling to push aside, was a feeling of anticipation, as well as this small nameless _something_ that gave him the strength to go on. _Something_ was pulling him as if on a string from within his very soul; _something_ was telling him to keep striving forward. The feeling became stronger and increasingly physical, to the point where Ludwig snuffled quietly in the back seat, and Gilbert felt inquisitive eyes fall sleepily on the back of his head.

"I'm fine, Luddy." He was, _really_ , but something just... it was like he was excited to do the laundry. Which was absurd.

After what seemed like forever, they pulled up to the little 24-hour laundromat, the neon lights buzzing dully above the establishment. The building was cracking and crumbling with lack of upkeep, but the insulation seemed to be holding, and the equiptment within worked well enough to Gilbert's rather particular standards. This was a somewhat shoddy neighborhood, Gilbert would admit, however this building always just seemed a bit out of place to him, like it belonged in Fallout, instead.

"Alright, Lutz!" He cut the engine and opened the door. "Ready to help me?"

The blond nodded emphatically and unbuckled himself from his booster seat. Gilbert opened the trunk and pulled out the laundry detergent and fabric softener, setting it on the ground. He returned into the trunk for the basket of clothes, and balancing it against his hip, slammed the trunk. Ludwig was already carrying the detergent and fabric softener, struggling with weak, chubby little arms to somehow drag both of them in at once. Gilbert allowed it, if only because Ludwig threw a fit when he wasn't allowed to help like this. He opened the door with one arm and set the basket down on the counter.

"Take your shirt and pants off and go sit down." 

There was hardly anyone within the laundromat, so it shouldn't matter too much if they added the clothes on their backs to the load. Keeping their boxers on, of course. At least this would certainly save Gilbert some panic when he inevitably realized Ludwig was quickly running out of clean clothes again. No child of _his_ (biological or otherwise) would be wearing filthy clothing. 

He quickly started up the washer and went to sit down next to Ludwig. His little golden tail was beating steadily on the bench, and Gilbert took this to be a bad sign. It was never good when he wagged his tail, and he hadn't said a word since leaving the apartment. The albino leaned back, tapping his fingers with borderline aggression on the innoculous bench. He was nearly worried sick about Ludwig, and wondered if maybe the teacher was right, if maybe he should in fact be tested for autism. When the omega had first brought it up, Gilbert had vehemently denied that anything was wrong with his little boy. Ludwig was _perfect_ , and he dared anyone (the pup's shitty, neglectful mother included) to say otherwise. But Mrs. Moore carefully explained that just because a child had autism, didn't mean anything was _wrong_. That was just the way they were, and they could live full, happy lives just like anyone else. Some of them just needed more care than others. And she explained to Gilbert that if Ludwig _was_ autistic, then perhaps he could go through therapy, to aid him in understanding socialization before he grew too old to be helped. She said the earlier it's looked at, the better, and Gilbert felt like a fool for putting off a simple test for so long. But according to everyone who'd been around the boy before Gilbert had come back from the marines, Ludwig had apparently always been like this, so--

 _Shit_ , there was that pain again. Gilbert reacted with a sharp intake of breath, and struggled to tamp down his pheromones and retain his composure, sitting upright, entirely too rigid. Ludwig shifted closer to Gilbert, ever so perceptive to the albino's pheromone levels, even when the wolfhound tried to quell the scents.

Suddenly, everything became sharp and clear, like he had been living his life in black and white, in murky thick mud, and all of his senses were so _bright_ and crisp and _God_ , the _pain_  and -- _anticipation?_  He groaned, crumpling to the ground. Ludwig soundlessly jumped to his feet, and seemed to just stare for a moment. Gilbert wasn't sure. His pain was taking over, and he didn't know when but he realized hazily that he was convinced he was dying.

A crash toward the front of the laundromat -- "Help!" It was the desperate cry of a boy -- not _his_ boy, though, not _his_ boy, so it was fine -- "Help me! My daddy can't stand! He's hurting and -- and I don't know what to do!" He sounded on the verge of tears, and Gilbert saw movement next to him -- it wasn't Ludwig, it was another person -- an older male, and he was pretty sure that this was the one other patron in the laundromat when they arrived. The first thing he heard was a low, quiet sound, something reverberating through his chest, and _Am I growling?_ He felt inexplicably threatened, felt like he needed to protect Ludwig, like he needed to stand, run, fight, _anything --_

"There, there." He could hear a voice gently consoling. "There, there." 

He was touched on the arm, his face lifted up to stare into soulful brown eyes. The man then prodded at his back, at his birthmark, and Gilbert nearly screamed, wrenching himself violently away. He was going to pass out. He was going to --

"I'll be right back." The man's voice washed over Gilbert from somewhere high above him. "Keep an eye on him, okay? I'll be back, so don't cry."

And then there was silence, only a muffled whimpering ghosting over the sounds of active machinery. Gilbert realized after a long, still moment that _he_ was making the noise. Something --some _one --_ planted himself right up against Gilbert's abdomen, in the fetal curl he'd made with his body. He looked up, and saw Ludwig, smiling with big fat tears rolling steadily down his cheeks. Gilbert tried to smile, he tried his _hardest_ , but he only grimaced and let out another groan of pain. 

The eventual pitter patter of bare feet startled Gilbert enough to peer towards the door, but he just couldn't twist himself far enough without pain lancing through his body. He was vaguely aware of a writhing mass heading swiftly in his direction, and only as someone was laid gently on the floor beside him did he realize that the man with the gentle, earnest eyes brought in another man -- an Alpha -- in much the same predicament as Gilbert.

The man caused them to touch, just a light brush of skin on skin, and the effect was immediate. The pain was gone. His back still tingled strangely, but it felt... nice. _Comforting._ Everything was still coming to him in sharp clarity, all of his senses heightened in hyper awareness. He suddenly became accutely aware of the eyes boring into him.

 _Green_ eyes -- bright, bold, _acidic_ \-- and Gilbert's heart stuttered nervously. Those were by far the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen.

Gilbert moved to sit up, but winced and hunched over when the pain stabbed through his entirety once again. It wasn't nearly as bad, but it was quickly getting worse... until the man with the green eyes reached out and gripped his arm with a strong, calloused hand. Gilbert looked up, startled and no longer in pain, to a slender, though well muscled man with spiky, dirty blond hair and milky pale skin. His short but pointed and furry ears matched his hair almost perfectly, and... he had no tail? _How strange._ His coat and shirt had been stripped, thrown off to the side to show off various sets of tattoos. He couldn't see anything on the man's back clearly, but there looked to be something pretty intense going on back there. On either side of his abdomen were the rampant lion and rampant unicorn. The way those tattoos framed his six pack and that perfect vee was fucking delicious. That aside, he wore only a pair of black jeans that looked like they'd been painted on, and some big, calf-height boots adorned with buckles and spikes.

"See somethin' ye like?" Gilbert's eyes shot back up to the man's face, briefly noticing the prominant collar bones, angular jaw and the almost laughably thick eyebrows. But he ended up fixing on this devilish half-smirk, and felt a blush rising to his cheeks as he finished gaining his faculties. Had he been so blatantly checking this man out?

That, and the fact that this man had an extremely attractive British accent, caught up with him and his blush deepened.

"S-sorry." He hurried to pry himself away, but the man's grip only tightened. Gilbert glanced back at him, this time with more annoyance than anything. He let his pheromones speak for him, trying to force the other to back down, but the man offered up his own in defiant response -- _I will not back down, I will do as I please._

A boy (must have been the one screaming _help_ ) practically stomped over to the man, and gave his shoulder a shove. He was a little older than Ludwig, by Gilbert's estimation, and though taller, still had baby fat filling his cheeks out. His hair was a lighter blond that the Brit's -- a more sunny, warm yellow blond -- and his bright blue eyes fairly sparkled, even in his obvious vexation. His long tail with short but fluffed out and ruffled fur reflected his mood more accurately.

"Stop making it smell weird in here!" He groused. "You're gonna stink up the place like you do the apartment!"

"I most certainly do _not--"_

"Every time some weird person comes home with you, everything _stinks_!"

It was the stranger's turn to go red in the face. Gilbert couldn't help himself, he snorted in a pitiful attempt to hold back his laughter and broke into a somewhat abashed grin.

It was the man who had helped them. He was tall and slender, with long, dark brown hair pulled back into a frizzy pony tail and a clean shaven face. He had thick, dark eyebrows and deepset brown eyes, and what seemed a habitual frown settled comfortably into his sharp features. He was offering no scent that Gilbert could discern as Alpha or omega, so he instinctively pegged him for a beta. His ears were long, pointed and dark, and his tail... well, his tail look almost exactly like Gilbert's, as did the ears. The albino figured they must be the same breed of canine.

"What's your name?" Gilbert asked, his natural curiosity piqued. He wanted to properly thank this man for... well, if not for _saving_ him, then for putting him out of his pain.

The man smiled, looking surprisingly kind and gentle when he did. "Later. This is important, so you have to let me say this before anything else." He inhaled, "Before I say what I am about to say, you cannot let go of each other. If you stop touching each other, then you'll be doubled over in pain again. Remember how shitty that was? Ja, you don't want that." 

He had such a thick German accent that even Gilbert was surprised that he could understand the man's English. It was certainly flawless, but he wondered if the man next to him was having trouble deciphering the words.

"You two are soulmates."

The words fell on deaf ears. For Gilbert, it simply... didn't compute. Soulmates? The idea itself was the stuff of -- well, maybe not myth. After all, two of his friends were soulmates, after all. He supposed he should say it was extremely rare. How was it possible that the one person that was meant for you could exist so close to you in the same time and place? It seemed fantastical, and Gilbert was a natural skeptic. But even as he carefully examined this little sentence the stranger had just put before them, he knew it to be the truth. 

The tension in the air grew thicker with each breath, each heartbeat. All else was forgotten, and it seemed for the first time Gilbert felt some unknown part of himself fill contentedly -- against his will -- as though something that had been lacking was now slotted into place... His rational brain, however, was filled with a sense of growing trepidation. He hesitantly peaked a look over to the Brit, who was openly staring at Gilbert.

The elder boy was the first to break the silence with a hearty laugh. "Good one!" He fairly howled. "They're both Alphas, though. They can't mate!"

Gilbert looked from the boy to the man standing before them, and distractedly placed a hand in Ludwig's hair. He was trembling, his eyes pointed to the floor. The poor thing was probably overwhelmed. He returned an uncertain look to the other Alpha, then back to the beta.

"Okay..." Gilbert tilted his head, "I _do_ get why you wanted to say that right away..." Gilbert was glad to have been told not to let go of the other Alpha, but it just... No. He would stop thinking about this. One thing at a time, that was how he would do this. Control was key. Especially in front of Ludwig (and his potential mate(?) of all things! The mere thought was setting chaos alight in his orderly mind, and he once again ground all thoughts to a halt.) "So... that aside, will you tell us your name?"

The man smiled kindly, relating that his name was Gelhardt, and that he was glad to have come to the laundromat when he did. Gilbert sighed, closing his eyes very briefly and allowing the sounds of the building to fill his mind, pushing out all else. He should stand up; it was bad enough that he was sitting on a filthy floor talking to a man who had possibly just saved his life, but to make things worse he was over half naked. He turned to his supposed soulmate.

"I'm gonna stand."

The Brit nodded, wordlessly agreeing to work with him. The albino grabbed hold of the bench he sat against to hoist himself up, heaving his counterpart up alongside him. He held his hand out to Gelhard at almost the exact same time the Brit did, and their eyes shot to one another, regarding each other in disdainful annoyance. The Brit, in particular, was lifting his upper lip in a way Gilbert was unsure if he should call a snarl or a sneer. But the look was brief, and Gelhard was quick to shake both of their hands in a strong grip.

"I'm Arthur Kirkland."

Gilbert almost snorted. _Arthur_ , what a stereotypical name! "I'm Gilbert. Gilbert Beilschmidt."

Gelhardt startled visibly at that. "I knew it." He murmured. He looked as though he'd seen a ghost, and Gilbert wondered if he'd said something wrong. Evidently, this caught Arthur's attention as well, as he glanced at Gilbert askance **[1]** before turning back to the brunet.

"Knew _what_?" The question almost sounded snobbish, but Arthur's face reflected a simple and genuine curiosity.

Gelhardt, however, did not reply. He stared at Gilbert, the silence stretching until the albino shifted uncomfortably, averting his eyes to avoid that penetrating gaze. It grew increasingly awkward until the brunet shifted his eyes to the floor, reaching into his pocket to pull out what seemed to be a crumpled receipt and a pen. He scribbled something down with haste and thrust it into Gilbert's hand.

"My number." His tone was grave and held something else the albino couldn't identify. He was a bit stunned, and was just beginning to process this man's strange behavior when he heard a quiet growl next to him, something deep that reverberated through his whole being. It was different than a growl from himself or Ludwig -- it had more of Arthur's voice in it, and the longer it went the more it warbled and raised in pitch and volume, like a terrible, ominous song. All eyes were turned to the Brit as his own acidic green shot daggers into Gelhardt.

"So you tell me that this is my soulmate," Arthur spits, "And then you try to take him for your own? _You_? A _beta_?"

" _Dad_ ," the little boy whined, though despite himself his tail was puffed out like a bottlebrush and flicking agitatedly. "This man is _helping_ us --"

Arthur whipped around and hissed at the boy, effectively shutting him up and nearly dislodging Gilbert's hand from his own. 

"No no," Gelhardt quickly began emitting calming pheromones. Not only was Arthur upset, but due to the aggressive pheromones the Brit was sending out, everyone else was becoming restless in one way or another. "You've misunderstood..." He gave Gilbert a helpess look before shrugging, though Gilbert honestly had no idea what he was attempting to convey with that. He was fairly shocked that the man he'd just met wanted to exchange numbers, and was still considering the paper he held in his hand. "It's just..." Giselhardt continued hesitantly. "I can't... I can't discuss this right now. Not... I don't..." He glanced at Ludwig, apparently at a loss for words. "It's something we should speak of in private. Gilbert and I."

Arthur dubiously narrowed his eyes, but relented. Truly, it was flattering that Arthur was getting so upset on Gilbert's behalf... but he still didn't know what to think of all of this. He believed it -- the spot on his back had taken on a soft, gently pulsing warmth -- something like a glow (though he hoped it wasn't literally glowing since that would be weird) -- and he was no longer in pain as he was before. But... there was still that hesitation there, in the back of his mind. That feeling of forboding gently pushing against the surface of his emotions that he had to continue swallowing up. He couldn't give in to doubts or other thoughts. He had a job to do, he had to take care of Ludwig. And showing weakness in front of Ludwig in addition to an _Alpha_ (of all things!) who was supposed to be his mate... well, that didn't exactly sit well with him. There was no way that could turn out good.

"That is," Gelhardt turned to Gilbert. "If you choose to contact me. I am leaving it totally up to you." He glanced down to Ludwig again with something like surprise mixed with affection. "Is this your son?"

Gilbert raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms before yelping like a wounded animal. He heard Arthur cry out next to him in a similar fashion before latching onto his person as though his life depended on it (and it very possibly did).

"Don't _do_ that!" Arthur snarled, and Gilbert began issuing forth a low growl, creeping closer and closer to the Brit. _Don't talk to me like that. Stay out of my face._

"Gentleman," Gelhardt attempted to calm them again. "Listen... I'm truly glad for both of you... but--"

"You know we're both men, right?" Gilbert interrupted, finally giving into at least _one_ of the nagging little thoughts in the back of his mind. But with that one little thing, more came spilling out. Perhaps not everything, but enough that he wanted to cringe when he finished speaking. "Not only are we both Alphas, we're both male, and have no way of consummating this. We can't bear children. It'd be impossible. It's a pointless relationship!" He usually had a better brain to mouth filter than this, but this situation was sort of... different.

"That, you would have to discuss with a doctor." The brunet replied. "As for your other worries... you may still connsumate this. Have either of you been with a man before?"

Arthur and Gilbert eyed each other for a moment, before Arthur finally replied.

"Once. In uni."

Gilbert sighed. "Well the military is kind of a sausage fest, so --"

"Language!" Arthur snapped.

"Oh, bitte **[2]**." The albino rolled his eyes. "They don't understand." 

"You don't know --"

"I get it!" Alfred exclaimed triumphantly. All adults looked to the kitten, and he took a deep breath, his expression becoming suddenly calm and almost studious. "Sausages are to weenies, as weenies are to penises." He looked almost excitedly to Arthur. "Right?"

For a moment, Arthur just stared at the boy. "Aye." He acknowledged blankly.

"I'll leave you all to it." Gelhardt interjected. He was already backing away, to what was presumably his finished laundry. "Gilbert, please remember... my number. I would really love to meet up with you. In fact, I _implore_ you. I have many things to tell you. About... your family."

"My family?" Gilbert looked down at the number in his hand, then back up to Gelhardt. He narrowed his eyes. "What's so important that you can't tell me in front of Ludwig?"

The man shrugged. "I feel that you should know first, and tell the child at your own discretion. Is that your son?" He repeated his earlier question.

"Uh. Nein." Gilbert looked down at him. "I am trying to adopt him though."

Gelhardt nodded slowly, as though mulling this over. "Well, think on what I've said. Oh, and before I forget, in order for you to be able to be apart without pain, you should consummate your relationship as  soon as possible. You can get to know each other later."

Gilbert wrinkled his nose at that. Honestly, he wasn't really that kind of guy. When he glanced at Arthur, only to find the man leering over at him, he realized that he had to stop this right now.

"No. We're not doing this yet." He muttered. Arthur narrowed his eyes.

"And why the fu --" He bit his lip, chewing on a lip piercing Gilbert hadn't even realized was there. He took the opportunity to beat him to it.

"Because I just fuc -- freaking met you." The washer buzzed. "Hold onto me while I put the laundry in the dryer."

Arthur obliged, though Gilbert suspected it was only because he himself would suffer if he did not. Once that was taken care of, they sat on the bench together, watching Alfred try to coax Ludwig out of his shell. Ludwig would not have any of it, and tried to sit somewhere underneath the benches and between Gilbert's legs. The albino sighed.

"Ludwig, stand up please. I don't want you on the floor, it's dirty."

Arthur sighed. "He's a good child. He's just... a bit too enthusiastic at times."

"Mm." Gilbert nodded. "It's not his fault that Ludwig doesn't like him. I... I'm thinking about getting him tested for autism."

Arthur looked at him, but his expression betrayed nothing. "Really?" No shock, no confusion or offense. They could have been talking about the weather. Perhaps slightly ominous weather, but nothing more than that.

Gilbert nodded in response. He wouldn't say that he had no idea how to go about the testing.

They continued to sit in silence, the feeling of shock and disbelief still a tangible thing in the atmosphere, lingering over them like a phantom. It seemed as though they sat there for at least an hour, though Gilbert figured it was probably only ten minutes or so.

"If you're not doing laundry, then why are you here?" Gilbert found himself asking before he could think better of it. The way he'd worded it, it almost sounded rude.

Arthur sighed. "I was out at the bus stop with Alfred when I collapsed." He offered a soft, fond smile at the oblivious boy, the action seeming so dissonant with what Gilbert had seen of the Brit's general character and appearance. It was far too sweet and kind, open and honest. "If it weren't for him..." He left it at that, and honestly, Gilbert was glad that Arthur wasn't getting sappy on him. That would be _extremely_ uncomfortable.

"So..." God, Gilbert had no idea what to say to this man. Where did they even start with each other? He wanted to ask what the hell Arthur was doing out so late, but that sounded so... so...

"So..." Arthur mimicked, then, seeing as Gilbert wasn't continuing, he went on. "Why are ye doin' laundry so late at night? And with yer..." Arthur gestured at Ludwig, clearly unsure what to call him.

"My little brother." Gilbert clarified. "As far as he's concerned, that's what he is." Arthur nodded, and he continued. "It's... complicated. Things aren't very good at home, to be honest."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that." Arthur didn't look very sorry at all, and Gilbert was frustrated to find that actually hurt.

It occurred to him suddenly that Arthur could very well already be mated, though he didn't smell it. One couldn't always be positive, after all. If Arthur was mated, what would they do? What if they couldn't fall in love with each other? What if Arthur hated him? What if Gilbert was too poor or had too much baggage? He knew he wasn't the ideal partner, and had his share of skeletons in the closet. What if --

"Oi." Arthur flicked his forehead. "You're thinkin' too much."

Gilbert flinched slightly, before gazing up at Arthur with wide, startled eyes. He huffed, quickly looking away and trying to play it cool, only causing Arthur to laugh.

This... wasn't going very well at all so far.

"Hey." Gilbert interjected. _Calm down. Breathe. One thing at a time._ The knot in his chest was growing to a considerable level and it wouldn't exactly do to break down and have a panic attack here and now. (In fact it wouldn't do to have a panic attack anywhere but along in his room, but that was besides the point.) "I have a friend that lives nearby. Let's drop the kids there, and we can go somewhere and talk."

Arthur gave him a vaguely skeptical look. "Talk? _Only_ talk? And anyway, where would we do that?"

Gilbert shrugged. "McDonald's?"

The blond sighed. "I dunno. I've never met this person you're talking about. So... I'm not sure. I'll be leaving my _kid_ with them, ya know? And anyway, wouldn't it be better to just get this over with and... consummate this thing? Because as attractive as ye are, being in constant contact with ye is bloody annoying." He huffed in annoyance. "To be completely honest I hate being touched. However I find I like it quite a bit when it's keeping me from my very possible demise." He bit his lip, looking to Alfred, then back over to Gilbert. "That being said, I would like my autonomous freedom back as soon as humanly possible."

Gilbert sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I _know_. But I will _not_ just... jump into something like _that_  with someone I've just met. I'm just. I'm not like that, alright?" The dryer buzzed, and he looked at Arthur. "We're _going_ to drop them at my friend's. I promise you, he and his mate are kind and trustworthy. If you need some information, they are soulmates expecting their first litter. The Alpha's name is Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, and the omega's name is Chiara Vargas. Since they are expecting, they are more aggressive than usual, but that makes them safer. Chiara isn't near her time yet, so she's still working. She's a renowned fashion designer, and Antonio stays at home to take care of the house. Yes, it's weird, but they aren't very traditional and it works for them. They have two cats and a ferret." By the end of the description he was speaking rapidly, his impatience showing visibly. Arthur looked unimpressed, and rolled his eyes, and _fuck_ , the man was attractive even when he was being irritating as fuck, and if that didn't just irritate Gilbert further... Still, Arthur nodded his acquiescence.

"Alright." He conceded. "Fine. We'll go talk at McDonald's and play twenty questions or whatever ye want, and then we'll grab a case o' beer, and go to my place. Good?"

Gilbert nodded, rising to his feet. "I'm gonna load this stuff into the basket, so keep ahold of me."

"Ye don't have to tell me every bloody time, ye twit."

* * *

The silence cloaked the car in a nearly unbearable atmosphere. Gilbert felt like he could cut the tension in the air with a knife. It hadn't started so bad, really. But... it was just so painfully awkward. And the kids weren't helping, freely releasing pheromones throughout the car. They didn't understand why they were being sent away in the middle of the night (and Alfred more so, being sent to stay with strange people) and their worry was palpable. Neither Arthur nor Gilbert could really properly explain what was going on, not without really going into the details of their society and the nature of soulmates. For now, that was too complex for them, and too mature of a subject. It would just have to wait until they were older.

The awkward atmosphere wasn't really helped by the fact that Arthur and Gilbert were practically strangers being forced to hold hands. Nothing had prepared Gilbert for that; no one had told Gilbert that was going to happen -- had even said this entire bullshit situation was a remote possibility. But then, he'd had shitty parents. So maybe that was why. He had nothing to thank them for except the way they forced him to be so fucking self-reliant. Which, he'd decided long ago, was fine.

He stopped the car in a well-to-do neighborhood, on the side of the road. "We're here."

Gilbert opened the door carefully, letting go of Arthur for the briefest of moments only to grab hold of him over the roof of the car again. They locked eyes meaningfully.

"Ready?"

Gilbert nodded.

The tore apart, sped around the open doors, and reconnected at the front of the car. It hurt, oh by God did it _hurt_ , but it wasn't by any means debilitating, so it was doable. The kids were so helpful, shutting the doors for them in their wake. Gilbert smiled and ruffled Ludwig's hair in thanks. He stopped in front of his friends' front door, and pulled his phone out of his pocket. It was the middle of the night, and he wasn't going to freak Antonio out by knocking or ringing the bell. At this stage in the pregnancy, that was like asking to be attacked.

On the first attempt, it went straight to voicemail. He called again. This time, Antonio picked up on the first ring.

"What?" Growled an uncharacteristically irritable Antonio.

"Wakey wakey, gorgeous," Gilbert sneered with a grin.

"Not funny." Antonio practically snarled. "You woke Chiara. She still works, and as it is, she needs as much sleep as --" Gilbert heard a thump, and could clearly hear Chiara snap, _I'm not fucking glass, you bastard --_ Antonio sighed. "Lo siento, mi solita **[3]**." He muttered, slightly muffled. "Gilbert, what do you want?" That time, he just sounded weary. And really, Gilbert couldn't blame him. They had to have just fallen asleep.

"Well, I need you to do me a huge favor." Despite his best efforts, a tentative edge crept into GIlberts voice, but he pressed on. "Y'see, I just found my soulmate at the laundromat."

" _What?_ " The Spaniard near shrieked in Gilbert's ear, and he heard shuffling around as Chiara pressed him for _What? What the hell did he say?_

"Yeah... So listen. I know you're tired. And it's late. But... We both have our kids with us. Watch them please?"

"Of course we'll fuckin' watch 'em for you!" It was Chiara on the phone now, apparently having stolen it from Antonio. "How long you want them here for?"

Gilbert laughed. "Just tonight would be fine. And... we're at you're front door right now, actually."

"Damn!" More shuffling around. "Shoulda said something, you idiot!" She disconnects, and Gilbert found himself grinning so hard at the omega's antics that it hurt.

Lights began turning on in the house, and the wolfhound could hear the stomping as someone grew ever closer to the door. Likewise, the scent of agitation and distress grew ever stronger, and he realized belatedly that the vast majority of it was from Alfred. He threw a concerned look to Arthur, who shrugged helplessly. As the person grew closer to the door, Alfred edged nearer to Arthur, soon enough clinging to the man's leg, little fingers scrambling to find some sort of purchase against the jeans which clung to the Alpha like a second skin.

When the door finally swung open, Alfred made no move or sound, but his tail puffed out, big and stiff. Gilbert had only half a moment to observe the phenomenon, however, as he was swept into a careful hug that pointedly did not pull him away from Arthur.

"Gilbert," Antonio greeted warmly. He turned his welcoming if a bit sleepy smile onto Arthur. "And this is your soulmate, I assume?" His dark, hazel green eyes absorbed the sight of interlocked hands, one a ghostly white and the other livelier in color only by about half.

Gesturing to Arthur with a nod of his head, Gilbert confirmed it. "Mhmm. Like I said, met him in the laundromat. Weird, huh?"

"Well, that's fine, it's not like you have to introduce him or anything." A snippy voice with a heavy Italian accent interjected from behind Antonio. The male's eyes widened a bit in what could perhaps have been construed as trepidation, before stepping aside. Before he could move more than a step, she continued snidely. "Oh, and don't invite them in, either, Tonio. Hospitality isn't a big deal, and we don't need a warm home."

"Ah, come in, por favor, lo siento **[4]** , I was so caught up --" Antonio didn't finish, but instead quickly herded the four of them inside before closing the door. He turned back to them with a big grin. "I'm so happy for you." He looked to Arthur, stifling a yawn and running a hand through curly brown hair. "Really. Both of you."

"His name is Arthur." Gilbert said. He felt like he should be a little bit more excited, but... this was all just so surreal to him. And this Arthur person was still nothing but a stranger to him. "Arthur, this is Antonio, and his mate Chiara."

Chiara rested an elbow on Antonio's shoulder, each movement reaking with disgust and disapproval. She stared at Gilbert for a moment before making a sharp sound of derision. "I am more than a _mate_. I am a lot of things. Do not introduce me as _Antonio's mate_." At Antiono's expression of hurt, though her own visage did not change, she gently ran her nails over his scalp, and her tone softened just enough to be noticable. "While that is one of the many things I am, it does not define me. Just as being Felicia's sister does not define me."

Gilbert nodded slowly. He never knew _what_ would set this woman off, but he suspected she was hormonal because she was pregnant. "Uh huh. Right. Sorry." Best to just agree and apologize.

"So." She levelled her firm gaze on Gilbert. "You want us to care for the kids?" At Gilbert's nod, she gave a hum, and glanced to the children. "You sure ya just want us to have 'em for the night?" She smirked. "Bet you'll be busy."

"Uh..." Gilbert could practically feel Arthur's hackles raising at Chiara's attitude. This was _not_ how an omega should act. It was closer to how an Alpha should act. Though to his credit, Arthur seemed to be doing his best not to show his disturbance. "Mm. Just through the night is fine. But thanks."

Chiara nodded, clasping her hands together on her swollen belly. How far along was she? Five months? Or six? Gilbert couldn't remember.

Her demeanor changed immensely, then, as though putting brief focus on her own litter kept her docile. A small smile broke through the surface of her visage. "Alright. Just give us a call if you want us to keep 'em longer." She smiled warmly to the children before holding out her hands. 

Alfred, to everyone's surprise, burst into tears. "No!" He screamed, "No! No! No!" He clung to Arthur's leg for dear life, sobbing in great, body wracking bursts. "I'll be good, I promise! I'm sorry! I'll be good! Don't leave me! Please don't leave me! I'll be good!"

Arthur sighed, offering a _what can you do_ shrug to the other three adults. He crouched down to one knee and detached Alfred from his person with his one available hand, which turned out to be a bit of a chore. He sternly held to Alfred's small shoulder with just that one hand to keep the boy steady and upright. "Alfred," His tone was soft and calm, but authoratative. "I am not going to leave you here, I _promise_. I will come and get you tomorrow. These are nice people. You have nothing to worry about. And you know my cell phone number if you want to call me. But Alfred... I need you to do this for me, okay? Let your dad be selfish, just for tonight."

Alfred peered dolefully up at Arthur, and glanced quickly at Gilbert. "You're always selfish. You already forgot about maman." His tone was flat and almost emotionless, but the statement was damning all the same.

Arthur sighed, his eyes dropping helplessly to the floor, "No. No I didn't. But there are some things that kids don't --"

"Why can't you just get back with maman again?" Alfred kicked out at Arthur and struggled away from him.

Arthur stood up and sighed again, and with the whoosh of air he expelled, something in his expression hardened. Gilbert didn't look away from the Brit when he felt Ludwig let go of his hand, expecting the pup was going to his zia **[5]**. But suddenly, Alfred quieted, and the air felt a drastic change in pheromone flow. Gilbert's eyes tracked Ludwig to Alfred's side, both hands clasped in his own and his body pressing into the older boy's. The albino couldn't begin to know Ludwig's thoughts, or comprehend his understanding of the spectrum of feelings. But he knew that his pup had somehow calmed Alfred, though perhaps much like Arthur he didn't care for physical contact. A smile came to Gilbert's face. He felt _proud_ , though he felt a bit absurd for feeling so. His head had started spinning tonight at the laundromat, and it hadn't stopped yet. Nothing had caught up with him. This was a dream. Nothing was clear. Nothing was easily understandable.

"You're safe here." Ludwig almost whispered, and Gilbert gawked, because he knew his boy was brilliant but how in the hell did he know what to say?

"Kids..." Arthur trailed off quietly. He'd been watching the exchange as well, but he'd turned his piercing gaze to Gilbert at some unknown point. "They surprise you sometimes."

"For sure."

"Babies." Chiara bent down somewhat awkwardly over her stomach, giving both boys a gentle head stroke. "Hey, i bambini, andiamo. Call me zia Chiara, va bene? Come on, andiamo **[6]**. I have pudding cups and cookies in the kitchen, okay? And I'll make you some hot chocolate. You two must be cold." She hefted Ludwig into her arms, and Antonio darted forward.

"Espera, mi alma **[7]** ," Antonio hurried after the omega, though she merely threw a stern look over her shoulder.

"I'm fine, cucciolo **[8]**."

"Put him _down_  --"

"No."

" _Now_ , Chiara."

For a moment, the defiant expression wavered, before solidifying again. She carried Ludwig briskly into the kitchen, dragging Alfred in her wake

"I love you," Arthur called weakly.

Antonio looked back to them sheepishly, pulling a hand over his face that finally reflected an unhealthy level of exhaustion. "I'm sorry about her..." He began quietly, mostly to Arthur. "She just... She's very strong-willed. I guess... not your typical omega."

Arthur shrugged. "Great. Wonderful. She's her own person. Kudos to her."

The Spaniard raised his eyebrows and looked on the feline with a renewed gaze. "Two Alphas, hm?" He murmured, almost to himself.

"We'll figure it out somehow." Gilbert looked over to Arthur. "We'd better head out. The night isn't getting any younger."

Antonio hummed. "Of course."

"Hey. You know I really appreciate you and Chiara doing this, right?"

Antonio smiled warmly. "The gratitude is always appreciated, but we're always happy to help."

Gilbert smiled. "See, this is why people try to take advantage of you."

A loud sigh interrupted them, and Gilbert turned to see Arthur practically radiating impatience. Gilbert rolled his eyes at the sudden change in the man. He put it down to the fact that the kids were out of the way, so technically they could get on with... well, probably in Arthur's mind, get on with fucking.

"Guess I'm too slow for Captain Eyebrows, here."

" _What was that, you fucking twit?"_

"Hey look I gotta go if anything comes up you got my number okay? Bye!" Gilbert scampered over to Arthur, but this time it was him yanked back by the Brit.

"Alfred knows my number as well... have him write it down for you, in case you need something."

Antonio smiled amicably. "Will do."

They did their awkward dance to get into the car, latching back onto each other as soon as they were once again able. Gilbert exhaled a long, slow breath and started the ignition.

"So McDonald's, then?"

Arthur snorted and looked out the window into the black night. "Better than Taco Bell."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/N:
> 
> [1] askance: no, this is not a foreign language. however, it is a word that is too often used incorrectly and as i have used it here, i decided to define it so ya'll know what it actually fucking means. it doesn't mean "asking for permission" or looking to see if something is okay liek in those fucking fanfics where these two losers are about to kiss or about to fuck and one looks to the other in askance NO NO NO. askance means "with an attitude or look of suspicion or disapproval." so yeah. the more you know, aye? it's pronounced (in American okay) uhSKANSE not ASKence
> 
> [2] bitte: German; please
> 
> [3] Lo siento, mi solita: Spanish; I'm sorry, my little sun
> 
> [4] Por favor, lo siento: Spanish; Please, I'm sorry
> 
> [5] zia: Italian; aunt
> 
> [6] Hey, i bambini, andiamo. Call me zia Chiara, va bene? Come on, andiamo: Italian; Hey, babies, come on. Call me Aunt Chiara, okay? Come on, let's go.
> 
> [7] Espera, mi alma: Spanish; Wait, my soul;
> 
> [8] cucciolo: Italian; puppy (meant to be less a comment on Antonio's characteristics than his personality)
> 
> A/N:
> 
> You'll find that my human interpretations of the Nations are a lot less... fucked up and PTSD influenced than their immortal counterparts. I haven't really written much fanfiction on Prussia yet, but this week I'll put out the first chapter in a 3 chapter work, the first of a series of my OTP, Germancest (I understand this is triggering to some and you are by no means obligated to read it, but you must understand I don't believe Nations to be related and my interpretation of Germancest after Mauerfall is... different than most, to say the least) so you'd be able to see the difference in how I write him as a Nation vs human. Arthur probably still would have accepted everything cooly, I'm not even gonna lie. I'm not gonna say he would have been in love with the idea, but he's also a closeted romantic, no matter how fucked up I like to write him.
> 
> That being said, I find Arthur sooo much easier to write than Gilbert. The next chapter will be from Arthur's POV just to give me a break hehe... I plotted this story to be from Gilbert's POV but some chapters in which they are both present won't hurt anything. Since this chapter was put out so late (I thought I had the schedule under control, too!) Be looking for an update in the next couple days, at least by the end of the weekend.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeahhhh so I changed my mind about this being in Arthur's POV. I don't know why. It just... I just... It's not happening, that's the bottom line haha
> 
> This chapter is very dialogue heavy, and a lot of information is exchanged. It's kind of short, but it's important in their relationship development nonetheless.
> 
> In case you were wondering about appearances, these are Arthur and Gilbert's about pages linked here, you can just scroll down to the physical appearance and whatever. Mainly you'll be looking at tattoos and piercings, if only because things like scars and such won't be present here in a modern day human AU. Plus, certain tattoos will be missing as well but I trust you could figure those out. These used to be my RP blogs (still are, I guess?) But I don't really RP any more, there's no time.
> 
> http://saehete.tumblr.com/themuse (formerly absofuckinglutelyinvincible)
> 
> http://wandcrvogcl.tumblr.com/themuse (formerly innocentcrotchcloth)
> 
> Songs used in writing the chapter were: Hopeless Wanderer by Mumford and Sons; You Don't Own Me by Grace; Rockabye by Clean Bandit; The Ballad of Jeremiah Peacekeeper by Poets of the Fall

 

"So why McDonald's, again?"

"Because," Gilbert answered for what felt like the millionth time. "It's a twenty-four hour establishment."

"So is Taco Bell." Arthur said, for what also felt like the millionth time.

The albino groaned. "You said McDonald's was _better_ than Taco Bell. You said that, like, twenty minutes ago."

"It's not quite two." Arthur checked his phone. Gilbert knew, he just fucking _knew_  he was going to say -- "Ya know what else'd be open at this time?"

"Arthur I fucking swear --"

"A bar."

" _Arthur."_

"Yeah, yeah." He replied, throwing Gilbert a snotty look as they pulled into the brightly lit parking lot of McDonald's. "Alcohol costs a lot at bars and you wouldn't be able to drink, I _know."_

"If you know then fucking shut up, already!"

They got out of the car, hurriedly reattaching themselves to one another outside of the vehicle. Gilbert practically dragged Arthur along, his teeth already starting to chatter with cold. It had gotten bitterly frigid out -- the wind had picked up and the snow with it, but Arthur yanked him to a halt so abruptly that he almost slipped on an ice patch outside the doorway.

"Wait a bit." Arthur murmured conversationally. He tugged on the albino's arm a bit so that their arms interlocked, freeing their hands. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. "Normally I'd be a bit more... polite? About this? But as it is..." He lit his cigarette. "I could only wait until we got out of your car to light up." He inhaled deeply, then exhaled, closing his eyes. "Can't really afford to ask ye if ya mind."

Gilbert snorted. "As long as you don't smoke in the car. It's not mine. Wanna give me a hit?"

When Arthur glanced at him and took another puff, he didn't think anything of it. But Gilbert had no time to react. Arthur reached an arm around him and suddenly the albino found himself pressed to the blond's chest, and then, lips sealed against his own. Gilbert's sharp mind was quick to catch up, and while he didn't push the man away, he stood stiffly, his mind racing with everything and nothing. He felt like he'd been electrocuted, and was ashamed. _Why had I let down my guard around another Alpha like this?_

He took in the hit from Arthur's lips, and pulled away before exhaling. Narrowing his eyes at the blond, he leaned in once more. Arthur may have made the first move, but he wouldn't win this. At the end of the night, someone would have to come out on the bottom. Gilbert captured his lips with more force than necessary, pinning him to the wall of the building. He ravaged Arthur's mouth with his tongue, pointedly ignoring the low growl welling up within the other male, the volume increasing by the second.

That was a mistake.

The feline bit down on his tongue, not _too hard_ but enough that his sharp teeth drew blood. Gilbert jerked back in shock and pain, yelping and reflexively trying to disconnect their bodies. Arthur would not allow this. He used this moment of distraction to throw his shoulder into Gilbert, knocking him off balance enough to spin him around and slam him into the wall face first. Dread and honest to God _fear_ washed over him as his face was held to the cold stone by his hair, and without preamble, his fears were realized. Teeth sank into his neck, holding Gilbert still and practically injecting pheromones into him, calm and serenity and _obedience_. This was a trick used with wild, disobedient omegas and betas. He was neither of those... and somewhere in the back of his mind was actually fascinated to find that it was working on him... and possibly turning him on a bit.

This had been a gross miscalculation.

Not only had he let down his guard around another Alpha, but he hadn't anticipated that said Alpha would know how to fight like that. It had been quick, effortless, dangerous, and Gilbert had been entirely unprepared. He'd like to think that he wasn't out of practice... but who knew?

"Will you submit quietly tonight?" Arthur murmured in his ear.

"Fuck that." Gilbert spat, bucking him off. He grabbed Arthur's hand, tugging him into the building. "We're going to talk a bit, and _then_ we'll see where that leaves us." He narrowed his eyes at Arthur. "I don't spend my time going around fucking total strangers... nor do I throw myself at them, belly up."

Arthur bristled, _just a bit_ , but it was enough to know. _This man's a fucking whore. What have I done to deserve this!_ The Brit inhhaled through his nose, and exhaled slowly through his mouth. He closed his eyes for a moment, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Were you hungry?" he asked at length.

"Nein." Gilbert shook his head. "I _was_ going to get some lemonade though..." If they were going to get along, he had to bite the bullet. "I'll buy something for you. If you'd like."

Arthur glanced at Gilbert, an inscruitable expression passing over his face before he nodded in agreeance. "Alright. That would be fine. I don't want much anyway."

The Brit ended up ordering an Oreo McFlurry and a small fry, and after Gilbert got his drink they sat next to each other in a booth. This was easier, as it meant they weren't constantly clinging to one another. Honestly, now that they were here, Gilbert didn't know where to start. A thousand questions and even more concerns buzzed around in his mind. He watched Arthur eat out of the corner of his eye, unaware if this sort of quiet was positive or not. Or neutral. He began nervously bouncing his knee, before he realized what he was doing and ceased his actions.

He had to calm down, and think. In relationships, he supposed emotions were all well and good, but he couldn't let them get the better of him.

"So." He began conversationally. "We might as well just actually play twenty questions."

Arthur levelled him with such an unimpressed look that the albino actually lowered his ears defensively.

"Seriously!" He nearly whined. "Listen. I'll start. Okay? Okay." He ploughed on without waiting for a reply. "Here are the rules: You have to answer the question I ask, unless it's something seriously too personal like... I dunno. If I ask if you cut yourself." Gilbert shrugged. "Obviously you don't have to answer if it's something deeply personal, and you want to get to know me better before giving an answer to something like that... or not at all." Fuck, he was starting to ramble. "But either way, I get to have twenty questions answered by you. Here's the catch: whatever I ask you, I must then, in turn, answer myself. And then when I finish asking you stuff, you can ask me."

Arthur sipped thoughtfully at his McFlurry. "Well." He said at length. "Seems fair, I suppose... If bloody stupid. Truth be told, I don't care to know you. You're attractive... sexy as fuck, aye. But I'm..." He looked at Gilbert. "Well, you'll find out when you ask. I'm just in a bad place for a relationship right now... especially a serious one."

Gilbert frowned. He pushed away any hurt such a statement could have invoked in him, as he could respect that... but still. What shitty timing.

"Alright. I'll just go ahead and start then... let's see. Something simple to begin." It wouldn't do to shock Arthur with a personal question right off. "So... favorite color?"

Arthur deadpanned. "That matters?"

"Sure it does!"

"Well," A sigh, "I like green, just as well as red I suppose."

The albino snorted. "Like Christmas."

"Your turn."

"I really like black... and blue. A real deep, denim blue. I don't know the fancy name for it, though, I'm not really a talented artist." Gilbert rubbed his hands together. "Question number two! Do you have any pets?"

Arthur nodded. "I have a cat... Although I would like to have more pets. I wouldn't consider myself either a dog or a cat person, even though I am technically a feline myself."

"Well what's the cat's name?"

"Is that your third question?"

"... No?"

"Then I'm not answering."

"Fuck. Okay I have a dog." Gilbert huffed in petulant annoyance. He propped his feet onto the seat in front of them. " _Now._  What is your cat's name?"

"Nixie."

"My dog's name is Uta. Okay. Question... Four? Four." He inhaled, thinking. "So... where did you emigrate to the States from?"

Arthur looked at Gilbert like he was missing so many chromosomes that his presense here was a miracle. "England."

"Yeah well I got that, I meant where in England you sarcastic fuck."

"Oh..." He picked up a french fry. "A little place of no consequence. Catsfield. I moved to London as soon as I possibly could before I moved here." He threw Gilbert a sardonic smile before popping the fry in his mouth.

"Hm. Okay... well I was actually originally from Brandenberg... Question five. How old were you when you moved here?"

"Twenty-two, and you?"

"I was fifteen. Question six!" He was on a roll, now, so long as he didn't forget anything. "Why did you move here?"

"Because -- " Arthur had gotten into a comfortable rhythm of answering questions. This one, however, made him hesitate. "Because I fell in love."

"Oh..." So that's why he was in a bad position for a relationship right now... Well, Gilbert had already gathered as much from Alfred's little fit before they had left the boys with Antonio and Chiara, but he needed a straight answer from Arthur. _In due time._ "I left because my family moved here... so I guess, obviously, I came with them." He took a deep breath. This was treading into some more... not _dangerous,_ but serious territory. "Question seven." He said quietly. "Are you married?"

"No..." A long pause... Arthur obviously had more to add to that. "Francine and I..." He took a deep breath. "I was holding her back from her career. And we were fighting all the time. It was bad for my own inspiration, and bad for the children --"

"As in, _plural?_ "

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "Does that count as a question?"

"No. Please continue."

"So we're still working through the divorce, actually... She has my other son, Matthieu, with her in Paris."

"... Well, to follow my own rules, I'll tell you that I'm not married. Though... you probably already realized."

"I did. But thank you for letting me know."

"I can't tell if you're being a prick on purpose or not."

Arthur shot him a grin that did terrible things to Gilbert's heart. "I just have a naturally sunny personality."

"Okay," Gilbert quickly waved his hand in a dissmissive manner. "Anyway! Question number... what? Eight? Yeah eight. Uh... Food! I never asked you about your favorite foods!"

"Hm. You're right." Arthur finished up his french fries. "That's pretty easy. I drink tea and alcohol like water, and I love all manner of Chinese, curry and sweets."

"I love curry, too! I'm not so much a tea or sweets person, though. I'll drink coffee and eat wurst and curry any time of the day, though! Which brings us to our next question..." Before he totally forgot to ask. "Question nine! How old are you?"

"Twenty seven."

"I'm twenty-five! Which means there isn't a massively awkward age gap! Okay okay question ten. Religion. What's yours?"

"That's..." Arthur looked around Gilbert, out at the practically empty fast food establishment. "Well... I guess you could say I practice... paganisms? I don't know that I'm Wiccan, per se, but... I just do what I think I should."

Gilbert narrowed his eyes. "I'm not gonna lie that kind of makes me really fucking uncomfortable... but whatever. Not like I'm gonna tell you not to do it." He took a deep breath. "I'm Christian. Haven't been to church since Lord knows when... but... I'm a --" He shot a gravely serious look at Arthur. "Belieber."

The Brit's head whipped towards Gilbert, making a sound of disgust. "You did not -- "

"Oh ho ho! But I did!"

"Ugh. Please tell me you don't actually like him..."

"Nah." Gilbert chuckled. "Not really my type of music."

"What type of music do you listen to?"

"Hey, hey," The canine levelled Arthur with a playfully stern glare. "I thought I was the one asking the questions." Granted, he was quickly running out of questions... but that would be a good one to ask. He'd remember that. "What question were we on?"

"Eleven."

"Right." By Arthur's eyeroll, Gilbert could tell he thought this was stupid, and he was getting impatient. But the albino honestly didn't care. He would have to get into bed with this man by the end of the night, and honestly he felt as though Arthur owed it to him to tell about himself before hand. "So. Question eleven: what have you been doing for work?" 

Arthur sighed, and looked away. Shit. Maybe Gilbert had touched on a nerve. Arthur's ears twitched, and he took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. "I need another smoke."

"Let's just get out of here, okay?"

A nod, "We'll grab some beer on the way back to my place."

Gilbert slid carefully out of the seat, taking Arthur's hand so they didn't get separated. "You'll have to give me directions."

"Right."

They threw their trash away, and shuffled outside, with Arthur pulling a cigarette and a lighter out of his pocket one-handed.

"I have to make a call." Gilbert informed him. Arthur grunted in acknowledgemnt, and the albino pulled out his phone. It took more than a few tries, but eventually his brother answered. 

"Gil, what the fuck?" Roderich answered in German, his voice slurred from sleep.

"Hey." The Albino responded curtly, transitioning to German as well. "Do you have work tomorrow?" He didn't bother asking if Elizaveta had left again. He just assumed the worst.

"Yeah. Why?"

"I'll explain later. Looks like I won't be home until morning. When do you go in? I'll get your car back to you by then."

"I have to leave by nine thirty." Roderich hesitated. "I know it's a Saturday, but do you still have Ludwig? Shouldn't he be at home, sleeping?"

Gilbert tried to keep a lid on his anger, but it must not have worked very well. Arthur squeezed his hand tightly, his pupils blowing wide even though he must have known in his mind that Gilbert wasn't directing his anger toward _him_. Arthur didn't make any attempt to move or confront him, which somehow satisfied Gilbert.

He just... he couldn't believe Roderich's _audacity_ sometimes. "You abuse him and then you coddle him. It's like you can't pick whether to love or hate him!" Gilbert snapped. "I can't fucking wait to get him out of that house. Away from you, away from your fights with Liz and the tension and fear and pain he feels. He doesn't deserve what you do to him."

Roderich gulped in a breath, sobbing now. "I didn't -- I never asked for --"

"You know what? I don't fucking care what you asked for. You've never once been obligated to take care of that kid, it's always been other people. He doesn't need you shitting on him. He's not even officially your responsibility, he's Father's. So I don't wanna fucking hear you act like you're fucking worried about him, playing the good mother just because you need someone to cling to and make you feel like a decent human being." Gilbert took a slow deep breath in, and blew it out. He put the mouth piece of the phone away from himself, and leaned into Arthur, who openly bristled at the aggression still radiating off of him. But to his credit, the other Alpha controlled himself. "I could use another shotgun. Please?"

Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes, but obliged Gilbert.

"Gil? Are you with someone?"

He had time, now, to notice that Arthur's lips were rough and chapped, not unlike his own. He inhaled the smoke, the poison pumping through him and refreshing him like water. He pulled away and caught a glimpse of a flush on Arthur's pale cheeks, but that was the only indication that the blond might be just a _bit_ flustered.

"Yeah. Like I said, I'll explain later. And anyway..." He would take pity on his stupid little brother. "Ludwig is fine. He's staying with Antonio."

"Oh." A whoosh of air escaped the omega, and Gilbert could tell even over the phone that he was honestly relieved. But the Alpha couldn't find himself to care.

"I'll be back with your car a little before nine thirty." Gilbert abruptly hung up, and turned back to Arthur. "Sorry about that. Had to give my brother a quick call. This is his car, and he needs it for work tomorrow."

The Brit hummed, taking another drag and looking out onto the black, empty street. A long moment passed before he asked the question. "So what made you so angry?"

"Well..." He hadn't been planning on telling Arthur this, yet. Though... he supposed it was okay, considering no one was there to hear it. He shifted his weight a bit, looking up to the night sky. It was a cloudy sort of black. He couldn't see even one star with all of the light pollution, and it somehow made him a bit claustrophobic. "It's... a little bit complicated."

"That's fine." Arthur dropped his cigarette, stubbing it out with his hell. "I doubt you'll scare me off with _complicated_."

"Roderich had just -- Roderich's my little brother, sorry." He explained at Arthur's expression of confusion. He started walking to the car, hand in hand with the Brit. "He'd just started college, the first omega in our family to attend. He was walking home from class one night when his heat started. I mean, it shouldn't have been a big deal. He was on heat suppressants, and all he really had to do was pop a scent suppressant pill... But I guess it didn't act fast enough."

"Oh no." Arthur was actually taking this story seriously, Gilbert was glad to see. Many Alphas didn't. They quickly got into the vehicle, grabbing each other's hands again as soon as possible.

"Yeah. Oh no is right." Gilbert started the ignition. "He was raped, and probably would have been killed if he hadn't been found by campus security." Gilbert sighed. "While he was given treatment, the rapist was left off with a semester suspension and community service work. They came to the agreement that it was wrong, but as Roderich was in heat, he should have expected it. Where should I turn out of here?"

"Left." Arthur was staring at Gilbert, now, though the albino pretended not to notice, as he was driving.

"I was in the marines at the time. When I came home, there was this little brat running around my parents' house and I seriously thought that they had another kid! At their age!" Gilbert chuckled dryly. "I was horrified. But... that wasn't the case. My mother took me aside and told me the situation, and that she had convinced --"

"Turn right up here."

Gilbert put the turn signal on, moving over to the correct lane. "- that she had convinced Roderich to go through with the pregnancy. She'd reassured him that he wouldn't have to raise the kid himself, or at all if he didn't want to. And... I guess Roderich didn't want anything to do with the baby. Which I can understand."

"So... how'd you end up with him? Also, take a left here, and then an immediate right."

"Well... that's tricky." Gilbert sighed. "I saw the kid, and said to myself, _gross_. Look at this little brat. What a burden to put on my elderly parents. I wasn't exactly enamored of Ludwig. In fact I didn't really like him at all. I never _hated_ kids, but I always found them rather annoying, and taking care of them was way too much trouble. Then... Mother got sick. Cancer. It hit hard and fast, and there was nothing anyone could do. And Father told me I had to shape up and take Ludwig with me --"

"Shape up?" Arthur asked with a snort. "It's this place right here, this drive through."

"Okay, cool. Umm... What are we getting?" Gilbert pulled into the beer drive through, and a middle aged man with a rugged, brown beard and soft, stubby little brown ears strolled out of the interior. Gilbert rolled down his window.

"Hey, boys." He greeted genially. "What can I get for ya?"

"We'll get a case of Guiness Stout, and..." Gilbert looked to Arthur, who leaned over his lap into the window.

"That, some Jose Cuervo, and... your best London dry."

Gilbert turned to Arthur as the man walked away, his eyes fearfully wide. "All that? We're getting _all that_?"

The Brit grinned. "Half of it is for me and my flask."

The albino just rolled his eyes, fingers tapping idly against the steering wheel. "Well, you'll be paying for what you ordered."

"Don't get snippy with me. I intend to."

The man came back out. "That's going to be forty dollars."

"I'll give you a twenty." Arthur dug out his wallet and handed over a bill. Gilbert took that, along with his debit card, and handed this to the man. Having been checked out, they took their alcohol and left.

"Now..." Arthur sighed. "Go right out of here. And answer the question."

"Huh?"

"What did you mean by saying that you had to shape up?"

"Oh... well, I had some drug problems in the past. And I went out partying a lot. But I went through rehab and started college, so that's in the past, now." The blond nodded thoughtfully, and Gilbert belatedly remembered something. "Hey, you never answered what you do for work."

Arthur ran his fingers through his hair. "Well... I wait tables. Sometimes I get music gigs at bars, and I'm trying to do some freelance writing... I'm getting on, I suppose."

Obviously, this man had no money. Gilbert tried not to grimace. So far, logistically speaking, things weren't going in his favor.

"What about you? Also, go left here. Into those apartments."

They weren't in a good area of town, that was for sure. Arthur directed him where to go, telling him to park on the side of the road as the parking lot was reserved for residents of the complex. Gilbert got out, swiftly locking up and taking hold of Arthur again after grabbing the booze.

"I work at a bar." Gilbert began as they trudged up to the complex. The albino felt on edge, as though he was being watched... It was probably just paranoia, but it was a hard feeling to shake, like he could have to defend himself at any moment. He hoped desperately Roderich's car wouldn't be broken into. "But my day job is as a mechanic... and I'm a full time student going for an engineering degree. It's been pretty tough."

Arthur stared at him, stunned. "You work hard." He said after a beat.

Gilbert shrugged. "It's not a big deal. I need the money, and so does Ludwig. I have to save up so I can move out..." He sighed. 

Arthur unlocked the apartment door and flipped on a dim light that flickered shyly before humming fully to life. The place was cramped and packed tightly, but Gilbert couldn't say it was messy, or dirty. Chaotic, perhaps, but it was clean. There was a picture on the wall of a seascape, and above the stove was a sign that said, "Many have eaten here, few have died." There was a counter separating the front sitting room from the kitchen, and this is where Arthur put the bag of booze. Slipping his shoes off, Gilbert trailed after him until the Brit settled on the couch, each of them with a beer in hand.

"Like I said, it's not good at home." Gilbert took a long swig of beer. "Roderich was lucky enough to find a mate after being raped, so now his scent is back to normal. But... well, I can't stay there with Ludwig. That, coupled with the abuse brought on by my brother, he just... We can't do this much longer. But... I need more money."

Arthur nodded. "Aye. I feel that."

They both sighed almost in unison, and looked at one another. Now that Gilbert was looking, and looking _closely_ , he could see that, while he didn't look _feminine_ , Arthur had long pretty eyelashes, as well as a smattering of light, nearly invisible freckles running across his cheeks and nose. Hesitantly, he reached a pale hand to the other Alpha. Arthur stiffened as Gilbert placed it gently on his cheek, but didn't move, didn't pull away.

"So." Arthur began tonelessly. "Soul mates, hmm?"

Gilbert nodded, still entranced by Arthur's angular features, his pale lips with a sharp cupid's bow, those clever and attentive green eyes holding so much passionate emotion inside them. If nothing else, this man was incredibly attractive. At least he had that going for him.

Fingers were snapped in front of his face, and Gilbert blinked, this time really looking and _seeing_  Arthur.

"Gilbert." The man said his name, and... the albino expected on some level that it might affect him somehow. He'd braced himself almost instinctively the moment the word left the blond's lips. But... nothing really out of the ordinary happed. It just... felt _right._

"Yes?"

"I would like to kiss you again."

Gilbert narrowed his eyes, but glanced at the beer in his hand and set it down. While he found it strange that Arthur would just... tell him that, they were here to do _this_ after all, correct? The albino leaned in, and this time, it was a soft kiss. Not eager, neither side trying to dominate. But it was curious, exploratory. Also, it was short.

"I haven't drank enough for this." Arthur muttered, and when Gilbert thought about how in the end, one of them was going to have to bottom, he was inclined to agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh... I'm not really comfortable with how this chapter turned out. So far, I feel like this work is far from being my best, and I just don't know why. Am I just awful at writing a human Prussia? Or is it because it's an A/B/O fic and I've never done that before? I just don't know. But I'm not exactly happy with this so far if I have to be honest.
> 
> Please review and tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So Gilbert is actually demisexual, just fyi. He doesn't actually realize this, though, and has probably never heard the term in his life. Keep in mind that sexuality is a spectrum, and he actually falls on the asexual spectrum. That said, this sex that's coming up isn't exactly consensual. They're doing it because they have no choice. It's fuck or die. This will hurt. This won't be pretty. Arthur is trying to be nice because he is sexually attracted to Gilbert, but as I said, Gilbert doesn't feel that. I don't need to tell you that with this Gilbert won't be topping initially. I don't have a set top/bottom for this pairing though, they are both Alphas and that aside I feel that either has the type of personality that could easily top. This is just how it'll start, yeah? There is no sex in this chapter but it may make the faint of heart uncomfortable. So be warned k?

 

Bottles clanked together in the kitchen sink, empty and freshly rinsed. Gilbert sported a pleasant buzz, not too much and not too little alcohol. It was the sweet spot, that perfect place where he could allow himself to drift. He could still think clearly (if he wanted to) so he didn't consider this state as hindering him in any way.

Arthur, on the other hand...

He just drank, and drank, and drank. He was hardly more inebriated than Gilbert was, but the man had gone through over half of their alcohol already. Gilbert grimaced when he thought about it... Arthur carried a flask as well, didn't he? This wasn't painting a pretty picture for the albino. He heard the mewl of a cat before he turned back around and saw a fluffy white feline sitting on the kitching tiles, gazing at him with wary blue eyes. Gilbert smiled and knelt down, hand outstretched for the animal to sniff. Nixie, he remembered. The cat approached him hesitantly, neck outstretched almost comically toward the pale hand as though she wanted to sniff him, but also remain as far away as possible. FInally, a little pink nose bumped softly against Gilbert's knuckles, and he smiled, watching the cat sniff over his hand carefully. But then the albino shifted slightly, and the cat took off.

With a tiny smile, Gilbert straightened and started back into the living room. Just as well, he supposed, as the pain in his body he'd tried so dutifully to ignore was cresting and crashing into him like a wave, the intensity of it near maddening. He could still stand upright, though, so that was a plus. That meant it wasn't as bad as it could be.

He could in fact seperate from Arthur for three minutes without dying. What a comforting thought.

There, on the couch, Arthur lounged... and he was completely naked. It actually took a second for it to dawn on Gilbert and when he realized, he released a sound that was somewhere between a disgruntled yip and a snarl. Arthur glanced over, a devilmaycare smirk dancing easily on his lips.

"Get over here."

Gilbert scowled, but came over none the less. He needed to touch Arthur to alleviate his own pain, and even Arthur's seemingly  easy smile became more and more strained by the second. The canine's fingers brushed through that scruffy ash blond hair, and the pain vanished. Arthur seemed immediately to relax.

"Ah, that's better, mate." The Brit sighed in what Gilbert thought to be relief. "Do me a favor, go back in the kitchen and open up the box on the couter labelled marmite." Arthur turned back around, eyes on the TV. The TV was muted, so Gilbert wasn't sure what the fuck the Brit thought he was watching.

"Why? What do you need?"

Now Arthur was shifting around a bit, hands busying themselves with something in his lap that was beginning to concern Gilbert until he saw the Brit put a fresh, unlit cigarette to his lips. Oh. Honestly, how could he think that Arthur would just start masturbating right here, right now? Surely this man obviously had more decorum than that.

"You'll know when you see it."

Narrowing his eyes at that cryptic reply, Gilbert did turn back around to the kitchen again. He saw the box almost immediately and opened it. The concentrated aroma slammed into his face and he pulled out a sandwich bag half full of marijuana. Underneath was a red, crystal-shaped pipe. Gilbert quickly brought both things into the living room - that light touch he'd offered Arthur was only barely enough to keep the pain at bay.

"So..." He gave the Brit a quizzical look, attempting to keep his disturbance under wraps. "Why are you naked?"

And then Arthur rolled his eyes, levelling the albino with such a patronizing look, screaming I'll be patient with you because you're stupid -- Gilbert had a mind to punch him there and then. But then he remarked way too casually that We're getting naked anyway, yeah? and Gilbert wordlessly offered the weed.

Initially, he hadn't ben so concerned about this... but more and more, his anxiety was growing. It wasn't because Arthur wasn't attractive, because he was, but... this man was a stranger. The albino plopped down next to him on the couch, uncomfortable with the man's nudity but shoving a bare foot against the Brit's leg nonetheless.

Maybe it seemed like Arthur would enjoy this, but they weren't exactly being given a choice.

Arthur was packing weed into the pipe, oblivious to Gilbert's internal struggle. That meant that Gilbert was keeping any distress signals well under wraps, and he was proud of himself for at least being able to do that much.

"So," Arthur lit up and took a deep hit. "We've wined and dined each other... And you're attractive enough." Those green eyes roved over Gilbert's body hungrily.

"In a manner of speaking." The albino replied gruffly, choosing to ignore the compliment and  taking the proffered pipe from the feline. "I still feel like I'm about to fuck a stranger."

"I won't be the one getting fucked, love."

"Mhmm." Gilbert narrowed his eyes and gave a half hearted growl at that -- more on principle than anything.

The problem was, he didn't know if he'd even be able to get hard. Part of the problem was the fact that he couldn't even look at Arthur's flacid length without shivers running up and down his spine. That thing was huge -- as an Alpha should be -- and he couldn't even conceive that inside of him, let alone shoving his own member (of approximately the same size) into Arthur. The pain, the blood --

He didn't want to think about it... and somehow not looking at it -- pretending as though it weren't even there -- helped, if only a bit.

"You're quiet."

GIlbert met the feline's gaze, handing the pipe back over. "Have you ever met any Alphas that have had sex with another Alpha?"

The blond shook his head, a slow, unconcerned motion. "No, but why shouldn't it be possible?"

"I'm not saying it's impossible." He sighed, letting his weight fall deeper into the couch, letting the weed relax him. "It's just... it's going to be difficult. And I don't know anything about this soulmate stuff so I don't know what to expect. I mean... whoever bottoms - you say we both will, but I'm not so sure. Whoever bottoms is probably gonna be torn open." Arthur looked as though he were about to say something, but Gilbert stopped him, telling him to look down at his own cock. "Mine looks much the same. Think about that."

Arthur shifted uncomfortably, his ears flicking. "Shit."

Gilbert nodded. Weed had always made him quiet, and other than that fine detail, he had nothing to add to the conversation. For a little while, they stared at each other, passing the pipe back and forth.

"Take off your shirt."

The command caught the albino off gaurd, and he reacted a bit slowly, staring at Arthur and blinking.

"Huh?"

"Your shirt. Off."

"Why?" He realized the question was a stupid one but it was out of his mouth before he could stop it.

The Brit rolled his eyes. "I want to see your skin."

That... was a bit creepy.

"Uh..." Gilbert offered a confused expression, so Arthur clarified.

"Your tattoos. Your scars. I saw some of them in the laundromat... but I want to see more. I want to hear about them from you."

After a moment Gilbert gave a jerky nod, eyes slowly roaming over the other Alpha's body. "You too, then." Without waiting for a response, Gilbert tugged his shirt over his head.

He wasn't thinking about it. He wasn't thinking about how Arthur's cock was slowly filling as the man took in Gilbert's bare torso. He wasn't thinking about it, he wasn't looking.

"What about that one?" Arthur scooched closer to Gilbert, and the albino had to force himself to not move away from his half-hard length. The Brit's fingers grazed where his neck met his shoulder, and Gilbert shivered. Now that the pain had abated and he could focus on other things, Arthur's touch sent not only relief and security washing through him - but also electricity.

Swallowing and delicately licking his lips, Gilbert responded, "It doesn't... I mean, that one in particular doesn't mean anything. I just thought it looked cool."

Arthur's fingers traced the smattering of stars dusting his collar and shoulder, before pausing, and taking to tracing a new pattern. Those slim, calloused fingers went down Gilbert's pale chest, sliding past a nipple just a bit to closely, and the albino emitted a low rumble through his chest.

"What's this from?" Arthur was quiet, his gaze intent on the body before him.

"Hmm?"

"This scar."

A nasty looking scar ran down the length of Gilbert's left pectoral, and down into his side. He smiled sheepishly -- he knew it looked really nasty. "Actually... that's from falling out of a tree."

Arthur snorted. "How old were you?"

The sheepish grin was accompanied by an even more sheepish noise. "When I was seventeen..."

For a moment, Arthur just stared at him, as though he were having trouble comprehending Gilbert's words. And for all the albino knew, he was. Arthur had to have drank two and a half times as much as Gilbert had -- not that he was saying he'd been outdone! Not by any means. Gilbert wasn't exactly wasted himself, and he bet if he really wanted to he could drink Arthur under the table. He just... didn't want to.

Or... maybe more alcohol would make this easier. Isn't that what he'd initially decided? Internally shrugging, he grabbed another bottle of beer -- one of the last ones.

"How 'bout you?" He asked, cracking open the bottle.

"Me?"

"Yeah. What about those tats on your back? Those are intense."

Arthur made an affirming sound and twisted around slightly, so that his back was more visible to the other. Gilbert quickly finished off his beer and decided it was a good time to make a move of his own. He ran his fingers down the creamy, watercolored wings on his upper back, tracing over individual feathers before moving to the tattoo running down the center of his back. It was beautiful, a work of art that truely spoke to him. Arthur's skin seemed peeled away from his body, opening up to allow thorny vines of a rose bush struggle forth from within. 

His eyes scaled up Arthur's back, and deep blood red met with two burning emerald orbs. He didn't stop him when Arthur leaned in, slowly, as though he were afraid of scaring Gilbert off. Ridiculous. The albino met him halfway, taking this as a challenge; and Arthur's fingers were digging into his arms and Gilbert's hands roughly clutching that dirty blond hair and it probably felt like the canine was tearing it from the roots but there was no complaint. Neither was there from Gilbert whose arms were pale canvases fresh for the bruising.  His whole body, really, he decided when he looked ahead to the night's events. The thought made him freeze up, just slightly, only for half a second, and Arthur didn't notice. Gilbert found that honestly, he didn't want this.  Arthur was fully erect, and honestly, though he wasn't self-conscious about his own size by any means, the canine found himself intimidated, and very much not looking forward to their coupling. He pulled away from Arthur's grasp, still very much soft. But he felt arousal coil in his belly, the first telltale signs that that kiss did have an effect on him. Just not enough to effect his cock.

Arthur offered a quizzical look, eyes darting briefly down to Gilbert's flaccid length and the latter flushed, ashamed that he hadn't gotten hard.

"What's wrong?"

Gilbert hadn't expected that -- the way that Arthur's eyes had filled with heat and lust caused Gilbert to believe that maybe he would just get on with it, and Gilbert would have no choice but to bottom. But now, Arthur's eyes were filled with concern, the passion that had made them spark so vividly a dulled and muted light. Somehow, Gilbert couldn't abide this. He had taken light out of Arthur's eyes, had made him make this anxious expression, instead. God, he wasn't even mated with the man but... he couldn't bear to see him downcast in any way.

"Are you alright?" Arthur was rubbing Gilbert's arms up and down, as though soothing the purple blooms growing there. "You seemed like you wanted it, but I don't --"

The canine sighed, a quiet growl sneaking in. "Listen. We don't really have a choice in this, do we?" He grit his teeth, looking away from the Brit briefly before levelling him with a stern gaze, jaw set in determination. "I can't get hard." It was difficult to say. Very difficult. But he had to let Arthur know. "That being said... we have to fuck. Or this will only get worse. And tomorrow neither of us would be able to go to work. I hate that we have to do this, and I'm starting to think that I may not be able to reciprocate in kind. But we have to."

Arthur had ripped his hands from Gilbert as though he'd been burned, gaping like a fish at him until he'd finished talking. "So..." Arthur's eyes fell to the fabric of the couch underneath them, his mouth opening and closing again as he floundered for words. "So... in effect." His gaze darted up to Gilbert. "In effect I'd be raping you. That's what you're telling me we need to do."

Something in Gilbert's chest tightened at the way Arthur seemed appalled at this idea. And it was comforting, if only a bit, that Arthur didn't want to -- hadn't meant to -- put him in this position.

"We don't have a choice." He reiterated firmly. "Even if I snap at you -- you know what, no matter what, don't stop." Arthur's expression was practically heartbroken. He did seem like a player, absolutely, but apparently this feline couldn't even fathom taking someone by force. It was nice to know -- nice to be able to file away that Arthur was the type of Alpha that didn't look upon anyone forcing themselves on anyone else lightly. It was refreshing change from the types of Alphas Gilbert associated with on the daily.

Gilbert sighed and wrapped his arms around Arthur, tucking his head into the other Alpha's neck. "Think of our children." He murmured into the soft skin at the man's neck. Gilbert couldn't help but smirk when he felt him shiver. "We can't care for them properly if we can't seperate ourselves for more than five minutes. So it's okay. I won't hold this against you." Gilbert's tongue traced the shell of the feline's ear. "Promise."

It was a moment of terror when Arthur shoved the albino down into the couch, and he yipped a bit too loudly. Arthur winced, but continued on. Gilbert's heart was hammering in his chest. He felt that hot member press against his leg and he tried not to squirm, tried not to outright attack. As he forced down his instincts to fight back, his body must have realized what was happening and his fight or flight instincts kicked in on overdrive. He felt like he was floating, ears filled with cotton, and he honestly felt like he was going to pass out. He was getting tunnel vision and deliriously, he snarled at Arthur, darting his head out to snap and bite but it was a weak attempt, he could feel it.

"Calm down and think about how I'll let you fuck me." Arthur nipped lightly at his neck, nuzzling into the scent glands.

"Nnn." That was a hypnotic feeling, he had to admit. He'd never had anyone sniffing around so close to that place. "Can't." He felt helpless admitting it. But it was true.

"For now." Arthur assured him, capturing his lips in a surprisingly gentle kiss.

In short, Gilbert hated this.  He felt demeaned, he felt used, he felt worthless as an Alpha. And he didn't want this. He never thought he'd be in a position to say that he didn't want sex. But he was stuck -- they both were. Neither of them had a choice, and as Arthur rutted his length against Gilbert's leg, all the albino could feel was shame. Failure. Frustration and uselessness.

Fear.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay! So that was a shitty and short chapter and... I'm sorry? But the next one will have sex in it. It won't be romantic and it won't be pretty. But it is what it is. Sorry if this squicks you and though I hope to have the next chapter out by the end of the week (lol we'll see) I hope that chapter doesn't seem as rushed as this one. The next chapter may be in Arthur's POV only because I feel like it would be hard to write it in Gilbert's? He may or may not pass out somewhere through here.
> 
> Anyway I am just so fucking sorry about this chapter. I'm not even gonna lie I stopped editing this halfway through. If it seem like I'm in a rush to post more chapters, it's because I am. I really want to finish this though, and I'm only on chapter four. Hopefully I will become more invested in this as the plot goes on. Again, sorry, I feel really shitty about posting such a mediocre chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> So anyway, I want you to understand what's happening here, even if you have to skip this chapter for your own comfort. Gilbert and Arthur are gonna fuck, but it's nonconsesual. On BOTH sides. Gilbert is demisexual, as I explained in the previous chapter. And Arthur isn't so big of an ass as to get off on fucking someone who can't even get hard. That said, it's #fuckordie time. Prepare your anus. Oh and PS I lied about the chapter being in Arthur's POV. I am nothing if not a disgusting lier. :^)
> 
> (If you are uncomfortable with graphic noncon, please skip down to the end notes where I'll give you an overview of what's happened. Don't worry, I won't put anything explicit there and I'm not even gonna lie it's probably gonna be like one sentence.)
> 
> In the event that you didn't see/read my little explanation of this universe and the way things work, Alphas have massive cocks and balls, all the better for siring lots of kiddos. Alpha dicks are anywhere from 8-12 inches long, depending on the type of animal they are characterized with. Arthur and Gilbert's dicks are like. Approximately 9 inches long, about 3 inches thick and their knots are about 4-5 inches thick. Neither Alphas penises are by any means massive for their class, in fact they're pretty average. However as Alphas are not really built to be penetrated and bear young, and they do not self-lubricate, it feels like a fucking monster to Gilbert.
> 
> One more physical thing to note: when in great distress, arousal or heat/rut, they will become much more animalistic and sometimes very dangerous and single minded. While that doesn't happen to either Gilbert or Arthur, Gilbert does get on a slightly more base level psychologically, and both of their teeth and nails become sharper and more dangerous.
> 
> Writing playlist: Arsonist's Lullabye by Hosier; Heavydirtysoul by Twenty One Pilots; Holiday in Cambodia by Dead Kennedys; Hongkongaton by Gorillaz; 5/4 by Gorillaz; Guys Like You Make Us Look Bad by blessthefall; Black Rose Dying by blessthefall; Rosenrot by Rammstein; Mein Teil by Rammstein; Adrenalin by Eisbrecher; Cities in Dust by Siouxsie and the Banshees

"Just keep taking deep breaths."

A constant stream of low growls emitted from Gilbert. He was on a bed, now, which was a bit more comfortable than the couch. He gripped a pillow to his chest, offering some small sense of security -- he didn't have to look at Arthur, and he could pretend his stomach was sort of covered so he didn't feel so vulnerable, rolled out on his back with his junk getting rudely poked and prodded. He was barely even listening to Arthur in his attempt to block everything out. And that was a mistake.

"Gilbert." Arthur's sharp voice shot into the albino's headspace and Gilbert snarled at being pulled away from finding a safe place in his thoughts. But he didn't move. Assuming he had the other Alpha's attention, he continued in a softer, more gentle tone, "I need ye to _try_ to relax for me. It's only gonna be worse for ya -- really, both of us -- if ya don't. Relax 'n try to take deep breaths. I'm _determined_ to harm you as little as possible."

It all sounded quite reasonable given the situation, but Gilbert couldn't stop growling. He cluched the pillow tighter, digging into it with nails he vaguely realized had grown sharper and more pronounced than just earlier. 

Right now, there was a single finger inside of him, and it was excrutiating. He wasn't sure how in the hell Arthur was going to fit that dick in there. He was positive there would be some tearing. Would he have to go to the hospital? Shit, that would be too much for him. Not only did he get _fucked_ by another _Alpha_ , but it was a _man_. That sort of thing just _didn't happen_.

While he was lost in his worries, Arthur entered another finger, and Gilbert yipped and snarled, his entire body jerking and quaking with pain and _fear_.

"Shhh..." Arthur tried to allow calming pheromones to wash over Gilbert, but the albino was having none of it. "Gilbert, _please_ , I know it's hard --"

"Clearly," He snapped, flattening his ears and baring his teeth, "You don't fucking know! I don't wanna fucking hear it! Just get on with it!" And as soon as that was out of his mouth he thought better of it. "The... the stretching, I mean. Keep doing that. Just fucking ignore me."

"I can't just fucking ignore ye, ya fuckin' twat waffle!"

"What the fuck did you just call me?"

"Oi calm down! Yer tightenin' up way too much."

"And who's fucking fault is that?"

"Shut the fuck up already, _damn_!"

And Gilbert _did_  shut up, if only because he wanted desperately to get on with it. The faster they did this preperation thing, the fast he would get Arthur off and the faster they would be done. He squeezed his eyes shut, his tail struggling against the hand that held it down flat on the bed.

A third finger entered him and he nearly screamed.

As if he couldn't help himself, Arthur still attempted to wash waves of calm and safety over Gilbert, but honestly it was fucking useless. He wasn't an omega or a beta to be nudged into complacency by some fucking pheromones. Sure, it worked sometimes... Maybe more often than sometimes...

Honestly, Gilbert was grasping at straws, anything to keep up the appearance that _he_ was the Alpha, that he was _strong_ and _dominant_ and wasn't getting his ass worked by some other Alpha he'd literally just met.

"Shit." It was a quiet mutter from Arthur, and Gilbert stiffened, red eyes snapping open and locking onto the Brit overtop of the pillow.

"What?" He returned just as quietly, terrified that something had torn or that there was blood.

Arthur shook his head. "We're soulmates." He murmured almost helplessly. "But all I can do is hurt you." 

Gilbert sighed loudly, shoving his face into the pillow, because honestly, what was he supposed to say to that? He had no idea, so he remained quiet, or mostly quiet, the warning growl a steady constant through it all. The pain at this point was almost unbearable, but Arthur was being so gentle, shifting his fingers around and stretching him slowly and carefully. If Gilbert wasn't biting his tongue so hard to prevent himself from screaming, he might have appreciated the care, and the guilt that practically radiated off of the feline in waves.

"Everything will be better afterward." Arthur promised softly. "Everything will be better and I'll take care of ya--"

"I don't need you to take care of me!"

The fingers inside of Gilbert shifted painfully and the albino barely managed to supress a whimper. "You won't be able to fucking walk after I'm done with you." And when Gilbert's hackles rose at what sounded very much like goading, Arthur was quick to add, "It's because our bodies weren't made to be penetrated. There's no helpin' it."

And that shut Gilbert right up. Honestly he knew in his mind he was being unreasonable. But was he _really_ being unreasonable? Maybe yes, maybe no. This situation sucked. He didn't _want_ this. But there was no helping it -- Arthur was right about that much. So Gilbert closed his eyes again, his mind wandering toward Ludwig.

He should make a doctor's appointment for him. He'd have to call the insurance company first, though, just to make sure they were covered. If not... well, he'd have to get a price quote from a nurse or something and save up. Ludwig had to get checked out for autism, that was important to Gilbert. And when was child services coming next? Gilbert almost couldn't think through the dull pain in his backside. He thought the lady was coming in a couple of weeks. He had to get the apartment cleaned up, maybe get Ludwig some new clothes. He groaned internally, the financial weight of his situation settling heavily in his belly as a lead weight. Then there were the fees for his summer classes he'd have to pay, but that was far enough off that he wasn't overly concerned. It irked him, though, having to delay moving out even longer.

What would he do with Ludwig when he was moving? What if child services couldn't understand that there would undoubtedly be a period of upheaval that came with moving? He'd have to talk to the woman when she came... or better yet, he could call someone to ask about it. The woman assigned to them was one of the less reasonable ones in the area.

A sharp pain shot through him -- since he wasn't paying attention a surprised yip escaped him. 

"What the fu--"

"Four fingers." Came the stiff reply. Arthur sounded uncomfortable, and Gilbert could practically smell the uncertainty and disgust wafting off of him in an ugly combination with the lust.

It shouldn't have affected him. It shouldn't have made Gilbert feel as disgusting and unwanted as it did. Those were omega emotions -- _maybe_ beta emotions, in a pinch.

"Hang in there."

"I'm doing just fucking fine, thanks." Gilbert snapped through gritted teeth.

Arthur had no reply for that, so he continued on. And after the sharp pain once again became a dull throb, Gilbert raised himself slightly and practically snarled at Arthur.

"Just fucking get on with it! Or are you gonna fucking fist me or something?"

Arthur's sudden rise in aggression slammed into Gilbert like a truck, and he laid himself back out, this time baring his throat with the primal understanding that he was in a very vulnerable position. Arthur made a satisfied sound in the back of his throat and continued with his ministrations, this time undeterred by Gilbert's continued growling and any bitching that came with it.

For a while, it was quiet. Gilbert thought that at least ten minutes had to have passed, but honestly time was going agonizingly slowly and he wasn't sure. 

"Alright." Arthur put on a condom, and positioned his large member at Gilbert's entrance. "Take a deep breath."

Instead of arguing, this time Gilbert did as he was told.

He regretted that immediately when he screamed.

It felt like his asshole was being torn apart, and it just _didn't stop._ His eyes were shut tightly and he kept screaming as if that was going to fucking save his sorry ass, and he attempted in vain to struggle away from the pain. He tried so hard to keep still but it was nearly impossible. He knew he was only making things worse.

"Oh God." Arthur choked out, and Gilbert offered pretty much the same thing in answer, with a few more explitives. "Oh my God." He said again, and then, "You're bleeding oh God you're bleeding --"

" _Oh my fucking God --"_

"There's _blood_ , sweet fucking _Goddess_  that's a lot of blood --"

"Holy shit. Holy shit." Gilbert was hyperventillating, his ability to speak ceasing shortly after he said this. He could feel it, he could fucking feel the hot liquid running up the crack of his ass and he was fucking _shaking_  and there was _no way out_ , no fucking way to stop this because it _had to happen_ \--

"I'll take you to hospital, I take you to the fucking emergency room, I fucking swear I'm so bloody sorry oh my God I don't know what to _do_ \--" Arthur muttered uselessly, his speech never ceasing and his hips never moving further as his panic rose, the scent a sharp and unpleasant tang in Gilbert's nostrils.

"Do it!" Gilbert ground out.

"Go in more??"

"Ja, bitte, nur verdammt noch mal! Bitte. **[1]** " Gilbert practically whimpered the last word. He had to stay strong. He was no stranger to pain. He could _do_ this. He _could_. He still hugged the pillow to him, attempting to scream into _that_ when Arthur once again started pushing in after adding more lube, this time much slower. Gilbert would have kicked him if he felt like he could move the lower half of his body without actually crying. "Faster," he hissed, "Get it over with!"

"But that's just going to hurt you more!"

"Just get it the fuck over with!"

Arthur grunted in pain, attempting to do as he was bid, but it was difficult, Gilbert knew there had to be a good amount of resistance. He was not made for this. He always thought it was bullshit whenever those fucking hentai people would scream _I'm gonna break!_ but now he _knew_. He knew exactly how that felt, and it wasn't pleasant, it wasn't erotic. It was terrifying. He felt like he could actually die given one wrong move, and could only be grateful for the care Arthur was taking with him... later. He could be grateful _later_.

One thing he'd always been pretty decent at was separating himself from what what happening -- like he'd done earlier, just thinking of Ludwig. But he was finding it slightly difficult to do so now, the pain wanting so badly to remain at the forefront of his mind. He tried to remember that pain was all in his head... but it was admittedly incredibly difficult with Arthur's cock nearly severing his body.

"It's almost --"

" _God_ stop _talking_ to me!" It came out more of a whine than Gilbert had intended it to, and he flushed red with shame. At least it didn't feel good. He didn't know what he'd fucking do if he ended up liking getting laid out, moaning like a fucking omega.

"Okay." Arthur was panting heavily, and Gilbert wasn't sure all of it was from arousal. The albino peeked around his pillow to see Arthur staring at him blankly, but when their eyes met, the feline's expression quickly morphed into one of disgust and guilt, seeming to be appalled. At himself or at Gilbert, the albino wasn't certain, but it hurt. It hurt a lot.

Flopping back on the bed again and hugging the pillow tighter, Gilbert murmured, "Give me a minute."

He felt rather than saw Arthur nod, and the ever so slight jostle sent him into another fit of pain.

"Stop clenching!" Arthur actually sounded rather pained, himself. "It's only making it worse!"

"Okay, okay!" he gasped back, and he tried his damnest to just relax, just breathe. And the longer it took, the more he felt it working.

He deeply regretted that he hadn't been able to stretch himself with a plug or something beforehand. But there hadn't really been time. What time was it now? Maybe three or four in the morning? Could be later. He was going to call off work tomorrow. Or today. Whatever. He'd get paid compensation since he could prove he'd found his soulmate and --

 _Shit_. How was he going to tell anyone his soulmate was an Alpha... and a male? Homosexuality was legal, though still frowned upon by many people. And that was fine, there were laws in place against discrimination... but the rejection by his friends and family was a sacrifice he wasn't sure he'd be willing to pay for someone he didn't even know. That aside, it was probably the fact that they were both Alphas that bothered him the most. His heart fluttered nervously when he thought that people might realize another Alpha had subjugated him and _penetrated_ him, one of the most shameful things that could be done to an Alpha. Would Elizaveta know? Would she be able to tell? Would she take advantage of it? He was almost certain she would.

"Are you ready?"

Gilbert sighed, pulled out of his increasingly frantic thoughts. "Yeah. Go ahead." Best to get it over with. Arthur began carefully pulling out, and a thought suddenly struck GIlbert. "Wait!"

The Brit froze, giving Gilbert an alarmed, wide-eyed stare. "Are you okay?"

"No I'm not fucking okay." Gilbert flapped his hand on top of the pillow in dismissal. "Stupid question. But do you think you'll have to knot me?"

Arthur's visage grew ashen. "I don't know."

"Do it."

"What?"

Gilbert grit his teeth, hoping he was conveying a determined expression. "Do. It." He inhaled slowly, trying to remain relaxed. "We can't leave anything to chance."

A sharp nod. "You're right." Gilbert could almost hear Arthur grinding his teeth, his cheek twitching where he clenched his jaw.

The Brit continued, carefully sliding himself out, before pushing back in almost as slow. Gilbert's incessant growl rose in pitch and volume, transforming into a low whine that he couldn't hold back. Arthur pressed on, heedless because he _had_ to be. They needed to get this over with.

Arthur pulled out again, quicker this time, and thrust back in. He was still taking care to be gentle, but Gilbert couldn't stop himself from groaning in pain, a helpless whine mixed in with his voice. Faster and faster, Arthur entered him, and once, when Gilbert's pillow was jostled from him slightly, he caught Arthur's absolutely stricken expression, sweat beading up on his brow and his chest and eyes set resolutely onto where they were made as one. Gilbert clawed at the pillow, willing Arthur to finish, to be done, and each second stretched on like hours.

When Arthur's growing knot bumped against his ass, Gilbert yipped and squirmed, actively attempting to escape before Arthur was overtop him, sudden enough to startle Gilbert. Just as suddenly, teeth were sunk into the albino's neck, sharp and slicing through his skin like butter. He shuddered, but didn't move a muscle. He couldn't, without violently tearing Arthur's teeth out of his skin.

He wondered if he was being marked. Wasn't he supposed to feel something? Shouldn't he mark Arthur back? A growl tumbled out of his throat, frustrated and confused and vulnerable. Suddenly, the knot was pushing into him, attempting to penetrate his body with every thrust and Gilbert cried out, terrified, positive he couldn't take this. It would kill him, it _would_ , he was certain of it.

And when it finally popped in, the albino let out an agonized scream, pain shooting through his entire body, no part of him left untouched by it. His head was swimming, his body throbbing, and every sound he heard seemed like it was filtered through ten layers of cotton. After a good moment, he realized those sounds were his own helpless whimpers. He wasn't even sure he could feel Arthur's cock anymore. His ass wasn't numb, but a dull pulsing pain that echoed through his entirety, no direct source attributable. He was positive that his entire lower half was paralyzed, a dead weight throbbing dully. His vision was getting blurry. Shadows crept in around the outer reaches of his periphery, slowly and silently closing in, and as they cocooned him in the silent dark, Gilbert ceased to feel anything at all.

**XxXxXxXxXxX**

When Gilbert came to at the vague sound of hollow pounding, the only thing he registered was pain. Figuring the pounding was his head, he released a soft moan and tried to roll over -- or sit up, he wasn't sure which. But when more pain lanced through him, he remembered getting fucked and realized he must have passed out.

He felt like puking.

There was more pounding. He felt like it could be the door... but all the albino could do was quietly moan again. Something moved next to him and he gazed blearily over at the pale figure of Arthur, slowly rising to his feet. He glanced over to Gilbert, muttering to him that he should go back to sleep. The canine felt as though his tone was laced heavily with guilt, but he couldn't be sure. He was already drifting off.

The second time he awoke, he'd barely been asleep. All he heard was shouting. It was Arthur and some other Alpha, and Gilbert felt his hackles raise defensively. Which was silly, because it wasn't like he could fucking move.

After maybe five minutes more of shouting, Gilbert heard a crash, then a pause as the door shut almost too quietly to register. Arthur trudged slowly back into the room, but didn't come to bed. He leaned against the door, crossing his arms, and Gilbert _knew_ he was being stared at, but the sky was still nearly pitch and there was no light coming in the room.

"Are you working today?"

Gilbert dimly realized that it was a question directed toward him. The words and tone were utterly devoid of feeling, and he couldn't scent _anything_ from the feline. He grew slightly distraught at that fact, his already frayed nerves being tugged on all the more.

"No." He croaked, surprised by the scratchy and hollow tone of his own voice. "I'm calling off."

"Good." And when Gilbert caught relief tinging that one word, he relaxed ever so slightly.

But that wasn't to last.

"I'm gonna need you to pick up my son. I'm getting evicted."

And with the quiet accusation lacing his words, Gilbert realized that it was all his fault. He didn't know how, but it _was_ , and now Arthur, who'd been in a difficult position before, was now in dire straights. He wished he could do something, wished he could _say_ something, but nothing would come out. He only knew, somehow, that he had to leave, and leave _now_.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/N: all translations are through Google so correct me if I am wrong, please!
> 
> 1) Ja, bitte, nur verdammt noch mal! Bitte. Yeah, please, just fucking do it! Please.
> 
> A/N:
> 
> So here I'd like it to be noted (if it wasn't clear enough) that this wasn't meant to be sexy. If it made you uncomfortable, good. Honestly though leave it to me to make a soulmate AU where being soulmates fucking sucks and isn't magically perfect.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you noted Gilbert's thoughts on just laying back and taking it like an omega. Because here, we have a perfect example of a hypocrisy as a product of society. Remember back when Gilbert was chastising Ludwig for stereotyping omegas and using slurs? Yeah. Well. Gilbert's not exactly perfect, himself.
> 
> That said, I told you I would say what happened in the event you would feel more comfy skipping the noncon. So basically Gilbert was screaming too loud (not said directly here, but very vaguely implied and explained in the next chapter -- honestly I'm saying this because this isn't really a spoiler??) and Arthur was evicted. Gilbert is gonna call off of work -- except he doesn't have work on Saturdays, which he's totally forgotten because his brain is fucking scrambled -- and pick up Alfred to take him back to Arthur. So yeah.
> 
> Hopefully this chapter's content and quality makes up for the last chapter. I think this one was easier for me to write, which I am very glad for. Comment and let me know what you think, please!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> So this is sort of a filler chapter. Sorry not sorry. Also I'm really sick but I'm also at work with nothing to do so I'm working on this against my better judgement. That said, it might not be a great chapter.
> 
> Writing Playlist: Beast by Mia Martina; Tag, You're It by Melanie Martinez; Suo Gan; Flawed Design by Stabilo; Saltatio Vita by Omnia
> 
> 5/3/17 Edit: Sorry this is late. I've had this chapter posted on Wattpad for a good while now but since Macy's is so iffy with their WiFi I couldn't really post this to Ao3 at work. And, well, I just rarely use my Chromebook at home, it's my laptop instead. So... with that said? Here? And Chapter 7 is already in the works.
> 
> Hooray! We're 1/3 of the way through!

It was hard, _so hard_ to heave himself to his feet. Arthur had _told_ him that he'd take care of him (not that Gilbert needed it), had _told_ him that it would be okay (it was fine, Gilbert didn't feel the need to rely on anyone.) It was as though the Brit couldn't even look at him, and he felt something terrible, horrible, _awful_ settle in his chest as a heavy and insurmountable weight. He didn't want to examine the feeling, didn't want to think about what it might mean. So he didn't. He put all of his energy into getting to his feet. He felt like both of his hips were dislocated, but he couldn't say for sure since he could still move and, well, he'd never dislocated a hip before.

"Can't you go and pick up your own son?" Gilbert growled, holding to the nightstand before gingerly setting his feet on the ground. He didn't want to put any weight on his ass, so this was a delicate and slow-going process.

"No." Arthur snapped, and he looked as though he wanted to offer some sort of rebuttal for the question, but fell silent. After all, how could he admit that he had no car and still retain his dignity? The albino hadn't asked that to be cruel, though -- he had simply forgot.

 Instead of attempting to argue, he grabbed Gilbert's arm and helped him stand. The albino didn't appreciate it. He could take care of himself, thank you very much. And after being humiliated, being forced to submit to and _get fucked by_ another Alpha, he would really rather this particular Alpha not touch him at all.

That said, he was reminded of the reason they had to mate in the first place, and sighed with relief as it ocurred to him they could both go on with their lives.

So... why did he feel so _terrible_? The guilt he smelt from Arthur was no surprise, but why did he also smell like muted despair, and the lightest tang of fear? Everything was fine, now... _wasn't it?_ If so, then neither of them should be feeling this way.

"I'll grab your clothes."

Gilbert took a deep breath, watching Arthur leave the room. His twin birthmark pulsed with the softest glow, like a heartbeat, and it was one of the most comforting things the albino had ever seen. He yearned to reach out and touch, to connect in mind, body and soul but he stood rigid, passively watching Arthur leave his view. He had the strongest urge to flop back down onto the bed... but he had to get Ludwig. And Alfred. First, he'd bring Alfred home. Then he'd go home himself and crawl onto his futon and _sleep_  like there was no tomorrow. Maybe he'd get drunk first... or something.

No drugs. He couldn't think like that. He couldn't let himself even consider taking any morphine derivitives. Even using alcohol as a crutch could sink him once more... but at the moment, he couldn't find it in himself to care.

Slowly and carefully, he ambled across the room, part of him trying to follow Arthur. It was disturbing, how uneasy he became at the other Alpha's distance, at being unable to see him. Attempting to stamp out the feeling, he pondered on his cigarette situation, deliberating very, very carefully about _exactly_ how many he had, how long it had been since his last smoke, and if he needed to grab more -- if so, how many more?

All that succeeded in doing was to make him crave that nicotine, and a low sound of discontent issued from his throat. 

Arthur returned (of course he did, he wasn't _leaving_  and it was ridiculous how simultainiously _relieved_ and fucking stupid Gilbert felt) with the albino's clothes, offering them out with a stiff arm as though he didn't want to come near the man. But when Gilbert showed obvious difficulty dressing, he could feel the Brit lean in, as though teetering on helping or not helping.  Gilbert decided for him easily enough by snapping at the man, baring his teeth in warning.

After slowly fumbling into his clothing, Gilbert looked at Arthur, only to find him staring back, blank-faced. Neither said a word, Gilbert hardly even breathed. It was the kind of silence that did not invite words, the kind that was not _comfortable_ but reassuring in of itself. Gilbert couldn't have said that there was no need for words. There were a lot of things they should be discussing... the fact that Arthur was losing his home notwithstanding. In fact, that was all the more reason to talk -- to remain in contact at the very least.

"Let me give you my number." Gilbert began, breaking the silence, but Arthur held up a hand.

"Not necessary." He replied flatly. "It's likely we'll never even meet again."

"But..." The albino's head was suddenly spinning in confusion at the rejection, even though his earlier thoughts had echoed the sentiment almost precisely. "But we're soulmates. Isn't that the most rare relationship in the universe? I mean how likely is it that people meet their fated love in the same time and place as they are?"

The Brit was just shaking his head. "The fact that the both of us have strangely bioluminescent marks on us means nothing." He spoke right over Gilbert when the albino opened his mouth, about to dive into all of the science supporting soulmate connections. "I know that there is science behind, it, and I'm not saying it's a bloody crock. I'm saying that just because we found each other... it doensn't mean we have to stay together." _What_? "I need ye to remember and respect the fact that I'm still goin' through a custody battle, and I am very hard up on money. I really don't need another thing to worry about, right now."

Okay. Okay, he had a point. He did... and Gilbert understood... But that did nothing to lessen the sting of rejection.

"But... I still feel responsible." Gilbert pushed on. "Let me leave you with my number. Please. I just want you to call me if you need anything, okay? This has to be super hard for you, you're already in such a tough spot --"

"You don't need to spell out my fucking situation to me, thanks."

"So I just wanted to leave you with my number. That's it. Please let me do at least that. It would make me feel a lot better about just leaving you like this."

Arthur fairly exploded, " _I'm_ the one who should feel like shit right now!" He threw up his hands, his exasperation and anger filling the room like something tangible. "I've lost my home, I'm barely holding onto my jobs, I found my soulmate and raped him, and now I'm probably going to be losing another kid!"

Balling his hands into fists, the albino stepped forward, only to be swiftly reminded that he was not in top form when his leg nearly gave out on him. The anger left him in a deep sigh.

"I get that. And I'm not belittling your problems. But I also have my own issues... and I feel bad about all of this, too." He waved his hand back and forth between them. "I don't like how... _this_  happened any more than you do. But you know what? It happened. And it happened for a reason. I know we don't love each other but can't you just give this a --"

"Not a bloody chance." Arthur dismissed the entire idea with a snort. "I don't believe in fate or fairy tail endings. Now go get my fucking son."

Despite his injuries, Gilbert drew himself to full height with a low growl. "I don't see you doing me any favors." Two could play at this game.

Arthur was quiet for a moment, and Gilbert could see the gears in his mind turning slowly as he considered his options. The man didn't have a car. But that wasn't a good clapback (not for now nor earlier) and Gilbert couldn't imagine the blond venomously spitting that reasoning out and expecting Gilbert to be intimidated by it. It was a shame to him, not being able to provide adequately for his family. And Gilbert could understand that.

 Finally, _finally_ , after what seemed like a year of tense silence, the blond opened his mouth.

"Gimme your damned number."

He sounded defeated, and it left a sour taste in Gilbert's mouth. But that was fine. He was getting what he wanted, so all other feelings were, if not secondary, then illogical. He offered a curt nod, and did his best to trek slowly across the room, trying not to hobble or otherwise show more weakness than necessary. The Brit watched him silently, impassively, not giving out threatening or otherwise domineering or aggressive phereomones -- but not offering much else, either. Gilbert didn't really understand it, but he was both grateful, and... vaguely upset.

He didn't know if he would ever be comfortable examining these feelings that came so close to a mate bond.

At the kitchen table, Gilbert shoved aside empty bottles and cigarette cartons to lay out a scrap of paper. He found a pen near a stack of what looked to be mail, and scribbled out his number, as well as his address. When he straightened and turned to Arthur, the blond was silent. 

There was no goodbye. There were no more apologies. There were no well wishes or good lucks. Gilbert left quietly, struggling to keep himself upright and forcing himself to  _keep walking_ in the most discrete manner he could manage. Getting into the car was _hell._ It took him about ten minutes to find a comfortable position to sit in, but that didn't help him when he started driving. The bumps were excrutiating, but he had to press on. 

It was probably the longest trip of his life, barring, of course, his trip to the front lines in the Middle East. 

Finally, at long last, he pulled up to Antonio's home. He carefully got out of the car and walked up to the front door, but it was opening before he even had a chance to knock. Ludwig barrelled into his legs, hugging them as tightly as he possibly could and shoving his face into denim jeans. Gilbert ruffled his hair. Normally, he would pick him up and give him a big, enthusiastic greeting, but not today. Instead, he just shuffled inside, closing the door so the cat they had wouldn't get out.

Alfred followed the younger at a more sedate pace, something in his expression brightening when he saw Gilbert. "Where's Dad?"

The albino tried to smile, but it was probably closer to a grimace. "He's at home waiting for you."

"Are you gonna live with us now?"

That innocent question shocked Gilbert. "What? No! Why would you ask that?"

"Because," Alfred looked up at him with wide, curious eyes. "You're soulmates. So you're supposed to be in love. Right?"

Gilbert sighed, doing his best to ignore the pang in his chest, the black hole that had slowly begun to grow after he stepped outside of Arthur's apartment. "Look, kiddo. Adult relationships... They're not fantasies and happy endings. Two people have to come together with their feelings and all of the differences they bring with them and it's -- well, it's complicated. Okay? Just because our bodies have a special mark on them doesn't mean that we'll fall in love with our so-called other half. It just doesn't work like that."

Alfred's face fell. "Oh." Then, taking a deep breath, "Sounds complicated. Why can't people jsut love each other all the time?"

That was probably the most innocent question he's ever been asked in his life. He couldn't answer it. He, who has mowed countless lives down with a gun, couldn't give any answers about love. They were answers he simply didn't have.

Walking out of the kitchen, a cup of coffee cradled in warm tawny palms, Chiara leaned against the doorframe, her expression thoughtful but fond.

"Tonio is still asleep." She murmured, then put a hand to her swollen belly. "I had no such luck, but I guess it's a good thing I was up since you came for them so early. Not sure why they couldn't sleep longer..."

Gilbert nodded to her, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Thanks for watching them. I really appreciate it."

At this, the Italian smiled. "You're being ridiculous, Gil. You know you're family to us, and we will always help our family whenever we can."

The albino's cheeks flushed lightly. "You guys are too nice, seriously."

But Chiara waved him off. "You're right, _Antonio_ is too nice." She flashed a wicked smile at Gilbert and sometimes, when she was like this, he could sort of see how a sweet man like Antonio could have fallen for her. "But put that aside. How was last night?" When Gilbert kept his face blank, not replying readily enough, the impatient feline inevitably took that as her answer. She gave a sharp nod, an _I see_ , and that was the end of it. "Just, if you ever need to talk, you know we're here for you."

"I know. And I do appreciate it." He paused a moment, then gave her a nod. "I better head out. Roderich's waiting on me to bring his car back, and I still have to drop Alfred back off to his dad. So... call me, okay? We should all meet up sometime."

"Antonio would like that. Drive safely."

"Alright, kids." Gilbert turned to the children at his feet. "Let's go."

"Am I gonna see Ludwig again? I like him a lot, but we can't play if we don't see each other."

With yet another sigh, the albino glanced at Alfred, just briefly before getting into the car with a pointed wince. "Uh, well, you'll have to ask your dad about that, huh?"

The rest of the ride was quiet, permeated with pheremones that smelled of distress, confusion, and pain. The children were eerily silent, and the Alpha felt bad, blaming himself for their discomfort. But beyond that, he couldn't bring himself to care, or really do anything. He was exhausted, this sluggishness and soul-deep sadness sinking into his bones and entrenching strongly.

He stopped the car, and asked if Alfred needed to be walked to the door. Of course the boy said _no, of course not,_ but Gilbert watched him climb the stairs to his apartment anyway. Just in case.

The ride home the rest of the way was silent. In the back of his mind Gilbert was vaguely adding up the gas he had expended within the past twelve hours, and decided he would have to put some gas in the tank for Roderich. But not right now. The omega had enough to get to work and that was what mattered. 

He pulled into the parking lot and got out, not bothering to lock it behind him. It was close enough to the time Roderich was supposed to leave that he wasn't overly concerned. But when he opened the door to their apartment, he was met with splintered wood, a torn couch cushion, and the reek of alcohol. The dogs danced around their legs, Fritzi nearly tackling poor Ludwig to the ground. Glancing tiredly to the boy, he muttered, "Go to your room."

Looking up to his big brother and nodding with strange solemnity, he quietly made his way into his room. God, when was Gilbert _not_ going to worry about that kid? Was he normal? Did Gilbert worry an inordinante amount? He didn't even fucking care at this point. He walked into the kitchen, glaring heavily at the rumpled and red-eyed omega he found there. He loosed a snarl and the man jolted, before slumping over again with a groan and a sob.

"She left again." he whined, and Gilbert huffed impatiently, rolling his eyes. 

"Go to work."

"But --"

"I don't fucking care how drunk you are, Roderich!" He snapped, "Get your lazy ass into work so you can pay your fucking share of bills!"

At that, Roderuch couldn't bring himself to look at the Alpha, and instead slunk off to dress himself. Gilbert didn't care. He didn't care about anything. He practically stomped into the room he shared with Ludwig (except he was stepping as carefully as an angered, injured and generally _fucking done_ Alpha could possibly step) and stopped upon seeing the boy, sitting on the futon and holding a pilllow. He immediately reigned in his anger and sent out waves of comfort and love to the boy, who responded by laying the pillow down, standing and coming over to the albino, hugging onto his legs.

Fritzi and Uta had followed their master in (or really, one of them was supposed to be Ludwig's dog, but Gilbert could never tell anymore since they both seemed to prefer him.) and were milling around, trying to pick and choose places to bed down. Gilbert picked Ludwig up.

"You get much sleep last night, kiddo?"

He silently shook his head, and with a sigh, the Alpha sat Ludwig down with him on the futon. "Let's take a nap together, then."

Ludwig snuggled in next to Gilbert, practically burrowing under the covers, and they fell asleep clinging tightly to each other, as though they were the anchors that kept each other afloat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:
> 
> Uh. I don't know what to say. I'm sorry? This whole thing was so short and the ending was shitty and just. Ugh. This was gross haha


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this took a long time to get out. I've been going through a lot of changes with my job, I was gearing up for summer semester only to find that I hadn't paid for the classes in time so they were all dropped. Anyway this coming Monday the fall semester starts. That said I've been going through a tough time with my depression and anxiety as well. So thank you for your patience.
> 
> Alright, so with that out of the way! Don't be surprised to find a major writing style change (or some sort of change I guess) because I am writing as Arthur this time around. I felt like it might be easier for me, and it was for a time. But I made the mistake of forcing myself to write while stressed, so hopefully that won't show too much with the editing. 
> 
> Without further ado, triggers in this chapter include (but may not be limited to) dubcon. Please enjoy!
> 
> Writing Playlist: Breaking the Habit by Linkin Park, Blood in the Cut by K. Flay, Human by Rag'N'Bone Man, Ceridwen and Taliesin by Damh the Bard, UruR by Wardruna

At the fractious insistence of the blaring alarm, green eyes slowly blinked open to regard the black screen of the TV. The haze of sleep weighed Arthur down, limbs crushed into the couch cushions with a bone-deep exhaustion.

This Christmas had been brutal. Frankly, Arthur considered himself lucky to have found a place to stay before the 25th, and on such short notice, too. He'd known he wouldn't be turned down by his best friend, but still, living with two Alphas in one home was often cause for contention. (He was constantly reminded of the albino,  _constantly_ , and the sharp pain he'd feel in his chest and in his gently pulsing mark was a dutifully recurring mnemonic.) The air in the apartment was heavy with the sort of inescapable aggression and tension that nobody spoke of. It certainly wasn't purposeful; it was all in the hind-brain, that most primal part where territorial instincts were given a free reign. Arthur was encroaching upon another Alpha's territory, and Cristiano was subtly making this fact known with his scent marking and subconscious posturing.

Not that he didn't appreciate the Latino allowing himself and Alfred into his home. He  _did_. And both had already talked about it; Arthur knew the territorial act wasn't purposeful. But...

_Well._

This was simply a difficult, and of course, less than desirable situation. That was really all there was to it.

Resisting the urge to slam his still-ringing phone against the nearest surface, the feline dragged himself upright before reluctantly setting his feet onto the cold wood floor. Boxes and wrapping paper were still scattered all around the family room, even though Christmas Day was now two days gone. To be fair, though, half of the boxes were Arthur's, stuffed full with his and Alfred's possessions. The only boxes open were those which contained clothes and Arthur's materials for his pagan practices.

Sighing at the thought of his son, he leaned back, fisting his hands to better scrub at his tired eyes. It seemed like good things, these days, were few and far between. Not even Alfred's joyous smile on Christmas morning had lifted Arthur's spirits. He was being self-centered; he  _knew_ it but was that really any different from the norm? If so, that would be news to him.

"Come on,  _mano_ **[1]**." Cristiano ruffled the Brit's already sleep-mussed hair, attempting to coax him off of the couch. "You got a gig tonight,  _sim_ **[2]**?"

Arthur damn near groaned, wanting nothing more than to sink back into his bed --  _his bed,_ not a fucking couch - but instead, he bit his lip, hoisting himself off of the couch with more effort than it should have taken.

"Where's Alfred?" The first words out of his mouth that day.

Cristiano tilted his head and hummed. He reached back with thick sun-bronzed arms to wrestle his wild mane of chestnut hair into a sloppy bun. "The last time I saw him... he was playing with Bono in the yard."

And so that was where Arthur found the boy. He'd grabbed a cigarette and a lighter on his way out, and he stood just outside the door, smoking in nothing but red boxer briefs and ratty slippers. Alfred was wrestling with Cristiano's big mutt, laughing and screaming and generally making a wild racket. His small hands scooped up a big handful of snow and he threw it at Bono. The dog yipped joyfully, bounding up and nearly bowling the boy over.

A soft wind fluttered across the yard like the gentle beat of a bird's wing, sending a violent chill up Arthur's spine. He sighed.

"Alfred, come back here and put a scarf on."

The boy turned to look at the Brit, most likely only noticing him for the first time. He scrunched his nose up as he took in Arthur's appearance. "No!" He shouted back. "You're out here half naked so I don't wanna hear it!"

The kid had a point, and Arthur was still too groggy to deal with a disobedient child... so he stubbed his cigarette out against the door frame, turned around and went inside.

The kitchen was warm -- he was only now realizing how cold he  _really_  was. Shivering and wrapping his arms around himself, he immediately stepped out of the kitchen to procure the throw from the couch. Feeling better about his next endeavor with soft warmth all about him, he entered the kitchen  _again_  and set about putting the kettle on. While the water warmed, Arthur took down a bowl and scraped a can of cat food into it.

The dining room was just outside the kitchen, a mere table and a few chairs placed by the door and not separated at all from the living room. But there, in the shadowed corner behind the table, was a small stool. And under the stool was Arthur's cat, Nyxie. Speaking softly, he knelt down and set the food in front of her nose. She looked up at him with big, wide eyes that seemed to be searching for reassurance, and he had tried his best to give it to her. The move had been hard on her, and she hadn't left this corner even to go outside. She was barely eating and not using her litter box, and truth be told Arthur might be a bit more worried if he wasn't positive this was normal. He was doing his best with her, and had contacted his vet to talk about the cat. Arthur was working hard to keep her healthy, and until Nyxie adjusted that was all he could do.

He heard the kettle whistling from the kitchen, so he left the bowl with Nyxie and began carefully brewing his morning tea. Actually, it could hardly be called  _morning tea_ when it was already mid-afternoon, but it didn't matter to Arthur. While that steeped, he went scrounging around in one of his many boxes, struggling to find the few with clothing in them. Still in a sort of exhausted stupor, he blindly pulled out a pair of black jeans and a t-shirt, tossing the shirt to the side to focus on the jeans. He went into Cristiano's room and stepped into the jeans, but laid out on the bed in order to hike them up and zip them. They looked (and felt) like they'd been painted on. It was always a struggle to pack his cock into these pants and he suddenly regretted not paying more attention to his choice of attire for the evening. Thankfully, the t-shirt was easier. It was a white Black Flag shirt that was just a bit baggier than what he might usually wear.

Well, that had been simple enough. Arthur donned a few accessories, the usual -- studded bracelets, a spiked belt, another belt with dangling o-rings, and the odd safety pin here and there to hold together some of the larger tears in his old shirt. Sufficiently dressed, he went back into the kitchen to check on his tea. Seeing that it was ready, he continued his routine, entering the apartment's only bathroom to darken his eyes with smudgy eyeliner. It wasn't a lot, truly, and he didn't always do this. But looking at himself in the mirror, he still felt somewhat naked, despite his freshly finished eyes and the piercings on his face. So he drew two nose stripes **[3]**  with the eyeliner and applied a thick stripe down his chin and onto his throat. He nodded to himself once and, satisfied, and took a long sip of tea.

After another smoke break, Arthur took out his guitar.

He had three hours yet until he had to be at the venue. That was plenty of time for him to relax and get into a nice rhythm. With the flick of a finger, the guitar case was open,  _click click_. Ever so gently, calloused fingers ran down the length of the strings, before lifting the instrument out. The Brit lovingly cradled it to his chest, plucking at the strings carefully and thoughtfully, not listening but  _feeling_ the notes,  _twang twang twang_ , so softly finding that perfect pitch in each individual string. Arthur closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.  _This._ This was peace. He reached out to his tea and took a sip. It was still warm, and he smiled softly to himself. Perhaps this day wouldn't be quite so bad after all. Not every day would be perfect, but certainly, he thought, certainly not every day had to be terrible.

Alfred came bounding in perhaps ten minutes after Arthur had started to tune his guitar. He'd shed his coat, but his cheeks and nose were rosy from cold, and his eyes were alight with laughter and joy. He pulled up short, taking in Arthur's appearance, before asking,

"Do you have a concert tonight?"

Arthur gave a short bark of laughter. "I'd hardly call it a concert. It's a gig, Alfred."

"Same thing."

Sighing with exasperated fondness, he couldn't help but smile. "It's really not. I'll just go up there, play a few songs, and be done with it. I don't have a band, Alfred, and people aren't coming specifically to see me." Well, not that he was aware of.

Alfred frowned, almost scowling, his cheeks puffing out with the lower lip jutted in displeasure, ears flattening horizontally and tail twitching in irritation. Arthur had to hold back laughter. His boy was just so horribly expressive, it was endearing.

"What is it?" He cajoled.

"You should have a concert. You should have a  _band._  But..." Alfred huffed and looked away. "People should come to see you now anyway! You're so awesome!"

Arthur spluttered through a thank you. He  _knew_ his son (this one at least) idolized him -- perhaps a bit too much. He saw Alfred the other day with a friend, pretending that he was smoking and trying to strike a cool pose.

He could admit to himself that he wasn't the best influence.

Be that as it may, even after seven years of this little boy looking up to him as though he were the end-all-be-all, the Brit still had a lot of trouble accepting a compliment.

"Alfred," he attempted to compose himself. "I only do this as a hobby, and to earn some money on the side. What I really want is to be a writer."

Alfred huffed again, lashing his tail. "Whatever. Hey. Are you gonna play for me before you go?"

Arthur rolled his eyes, but the action was not without some amusement. He was going to practice anyway, but Alfred liked it better when the Brit acted as though he were playing a concert especially for the boy.

"Tonight's lineup is..."

* * *

Relaxed bar by day, night club by night. Or, that's the impression that Arthur received. It was just past six, so  _Fox and Devil_  was only just beginning to fill up for the night. Arthur shouldered his way through to the back of the establishment, music and conversation and the clinking of glasses wafting through the air around him in gentle dissonance. Altogether this was not an unpleasant atmosphere, and quite agreeable with Arthur's personal taste. But tonight it would be crowded and loud, packed with damp bodies through which a pounding beat would move like a hot, living thing. This, too, was quite agreeable with Arthur's personal taste.

The door to the office was closed, so he knocked, patiently shouldering his guitar into a more comfortable position. He waited almost a full minute before knocking again. But the door did not open, and Arthur turned away with a scowl. There was a bare ten minutes before the exact time Arthur had been told to arrive, and so the Alpha could not possibly imagine what was keeping the manager from receiving him. Again readjusting his guitar over his shoulder, the feline turned and pressed back into the loose conglomeration of bodies, jostling his way up to the counter.

"Excuse me!" He called, and his pheromones were  _demanding_ of attention. "Excuse me! Is the manager on the premises?"

And who to his utter shock would march through the double doors (presumably leading to the kitchen), briskly wiping his hands on the towel hanging from his apron, than Antonio. The Spaniard was apparently surprised as well, stopping up short and deep green eyes widening a fraction. But, to his credit, he gracefully resumed his approach and smiled, wide and welcoming. It was almost genuine.

"Arthur! Arthur Kirkland! I had no idea it would be you performing for us tonight." He was warm and friendly, but for whatever reason, the blond felt an accusation in his words.

Arthur offered a stiff smile of his own. "Antonio, correct?"

"You have a good memory." Antonio had begun drying off steins and other various glasses, setting them aside where another person put them away. "So I'm curious. Did you find somewhere to stay after being evicted?"

Arthur couldn't tell whether he was genuinely curious, or was being facetious. The first impression that he'd gotten of the Spaniard, however, told him he wasn't intelligent enough to try passive-aggression. And so it was based on this that Arthur responded. "I did, thank you. I am temporarily staying with a close friend of mine."  _Who incidentally looks almost exactly like you, come to think of it._ "I guess -- Gilbert told you?" There was just the barest hesitation when he said the albino's name. He hoped Antonio hadn't picked it up.

"He's told me a lot of things." And that's when Arthur decided that the man's cheer was false, that everything he said was meant to be a barb. "I plan not to get involved in his affairs, though. He can fight his own battles."

How unexpected... Arthur remarked as much. "You're being unexpectedly frank."

Antonio shrugged. "I don't have the energy to keep up appearances. But I also won't mix my personal life and my work life." Antonio gave another shrug, this one just the barest rise and fall of a single shoulder. "And anyway, Gilbert would fucking kill me if he heard I tried to castrate you. He picks and chooses his battles, and fights them himself, too." At this, he stepped away from the bar, wiping his hands off again, and walked briskly around to the customers' side. "Would you look at that --" He exclaimed, looking at his wrist -- it was adorned in a small number of bracelets, most of which Arthur was sure were handmade... but nothing else. "It's exactly seven o'clock." He turned, before throwing a cheeky look to the Brit over his shoulder. "Won't you step into my office?"

And if  _that_ didn't just make Arthur's blood boil, he didn't know what would.

When the brunette closed the door, Arthur would have immediately felt threatened, but for the fact that Antonio was making an obvious effort to repress any pheromones. Out of courtesy, Arthur did the same. "So. I believe you were already briefed on how things work, here." Antonio began, typing up something on an ancient looking cubicle computer. "You'll be here until eleven. You'll play for the first hour, so assuming we get you all set up and ready to go by seven thirty, you'll play until eight thirty. Then a half hour break for you, and you play again from nine to ten. Then you'll take one more break and play for the last half hour."

Arthur nodded. "That's what I was told."

"Okay..." Antonio typed some more things into the computer before looking back up at Arthur. "In the first hour, no songs that are too inappropriate. After that, though, it's up to you."

Screwing up his face in a somehow disdainful sort of confusion, the Brit couldn't help but ask why.

"After nine, we ID and don't allow anyone under eighteen in."

Arthur had been under the impression that in the evenings, it was twenty-one and over (which still struck him as hilarious that the drinking age was so high).

When Antonio stood, Arthur did the same. "Come out with me and I'll help you get the stage set up."

It wasn't exactly backbreaking work, but it was strenuous, both physically and mentally. Each calculation was exacting, and the placement of the equipment, crucial. After about twenty minutes, everything was set up, and Arthur sat on the stool that stood off the side on the stage -- he wouldn't be using it during his performance; at least he couldn't forsee it, though he might be asked to play a ballad. Those were always better performed whilst seated.

Arthur strummed a few notes, and was glad for having tuned it and warmed up earlier. It was always good to check, though, especially after exposing the instrument to inclement temperatures. When he was ready, he entered center stage and turned on the microphone.

"Good evening, m'fine people." Arthur greeted the room with a toothy grin. It wasn't full up by any means, but the night was still young. He knew more people would arrive later on. "I'll play a couple numbers t'start, 'n then for a short bit here I'll be taking requests." He could do that only with this small number of people. A few hands came together in a weak applause, and Arthur began, vigorously strumming his guitar. "We'll start with something upbeat. You all should know this one. Holiday, by Green Day."

It was catchy and well-known, enough to be a great opener to catch people's attention. He didn't have any accompanying instruments, no one on back-up vocals, just himself, and it was exhilarating. Even alone, he was loud and vibrant and filled the every nook and cranny of the establishment with passionate sound.

After  _Holiday_ , he played a couple more well-known songs --  _Just Another Brick In The Wall Parts 2 and 3_ by Pink Floyd,  _Anarchy in the UK_ by Sex Pistols, and  _Shock Treatment_ by The Ramones.

"Alright, any requests? It can be  _anything,_ so long as it's not terribly inappropriate." He stressed this, internally praying for a song he could actually stand.

There were only a few people close to the stage, really paying attention. They sort of just looked at each other, the silence stretching into the realm of discomfort and awkwardness much more quickly than Arthur would have liked. The feline sighed, his ears twitching irritably.

"It can be anything." He pressed once more. "Billy Talent, Fall Out Boy, The Cure, The Clash... Anything. Even Mumford and Sons or... I don't know." He shrugged. "More obscure groups. Different genres. Placebo, Bella Morte, Seether, Imagine Dragons..." Another shrug. "Stabilo?"

The group remained quiet for a while longer, looking to each other almost helplessly. Finally, someone tentatively spoke up. "Umm... Can we have something by Mumford and Sons?"

Grinning and giving a sharp nod, because  _fucking finally;_  Arthur readjusted his guitar. "Any of their songs you'd prefer?" The man shook his head almost tentatively. Of course he didn't have a particular one. "Alright.  _Hopeless Wanderer,_ by Mumford and Sons."

It was probably one of the less mature-themed songs that he really enjoyed by them. The riff wasn't too difficult and he got into the rhythm after a bare few seconds.

After that, people were a bit more comfortable requesting songs. The first request was always the most painful, in Arthur's experience. The requests were flowing freely enough for the feline to get his mind off of the albino, and he found a comfortable sort of rhythm with this crowd. Slowly, more and more people were pouring into the building, and more and more people were crowding around the stage to watch him. It was gratifying... until Antonio caught his eye and tapped on his wrist, indicating Arthur's break.

"Alright, alright," He raised his hands, attempting to placate the crowd. "I'm gonna go grab a drink meself, now!" At the sound of disappointed groans, Arthur grinned -- he couldn't help himself. "I'll be back on at nine, don't fret. But no more requests. Sorry, loves!"

He sauntered down off of the little stage -- less a stage and more of a slightly raised platform -- to the catcalls and hoots of the audience; they quieted soon enough as they went about their business: drinking, eating, talking, laughing, dancing. The sounds pressed up against Arthur, squeezing him to the bar and he realized then that he had a splitting headache and the incessant crowd clamor was only making it worse. He'd had headaches nearly every day since meeting Gilbert, though he'd hoped he might go without, today. It seemed he was out of luck on that count.

He drank a good amount of water, not willing to risk a drunken stage performance. The audience might get a bit more than they were bargaining for -- whether in the form of a strip tease, or a bar fight, Arthur could never say. The bartender didn't bother to chat with him, and despite the eager applause and screams he'd gotten on stage, no one else seemed to want to converse either. This was fine with Arthur -- he rarely wanted to bother with small talk.

One more large glass of water and a bag of crisps later, it was time for him to get back on stage. Antonio sidled up to him through the crowd and gave him a nudge with a shoulder, his hands fully occupied in balancing serving trays. Arthur nodded to the Spaniard and then the bartender, making sure to leave his tab open before stepping away from the bar. It was nine o'clock. But something niggled at the back of his mind -- first a twinge, then a more insistent and solid thought.

_Gilbert_.

Somehow the blond was certain that he was here.

Regardless, he made his way up to the stage, picking up his guitar and strumming, checking to see that all was still in tune. It was of course, but one couldn't be too careful. He stepped out, lifting his eyes to his audience and preparing to somehow get their attention, when he saw them. Red, red eyes, blazing like fire, like blood, under those pale, snowy lashes. And he knew. He didn't have to look at the ghost-like pallor of his skin, those thick but gossamer brows, the strong narrow nose, the pale lips with the broad cupid's bow that looked so soft but were rough and chapped like Arthur's own, that sharp jawline and those high cheekbones and the wild tuft of snowy hair on his head. He didn't need to see any of that. He knew. He watched emotions play out on Gilbert's face -- shock, longing, despair, shame, disgust, anger... hatred. Gilbert only looked at him for a moment, as though drawn by the same force compelling Arthur, before turning sharply away and making his way stiffly to the office.

Arthur had been staring a good few seconds, he realized belatedly. Inwardly giving himself a small shake, he stepped forward and put his lips to the microphone. Emerald eyes glinting in the stage lights, he gave a grin that could cut through steel.

"Ladies, gentlemen, enby  _Homo sapiens_. I have returned."

* * *

It was eleven before he knew it. His back was throbbing dully, and even though the pain was centered right on top of his incandescent mark, Arthur willfully chalked it up to muscle strain. With his guitar placed ever so gently into its case, as a babe into a crib, Arthur stepped down off of the little stage, leaving the tear-down to the crew. It took an amazing sort of single-mindedness to place one foot in front of the other at that point. He was ready to crawl out of his own skin, feeling those blood red eyes searing a brand into his pale flesh. That feeling followed him all the way out the door, and he realized as he tripped over his own feet he'd nearly broken into a run. He shakily pulled a carton of cigarettes out, nearly dropping one thrice before clamping it tightly between his lips. The lighter was more stubborn it seemed, and it took a full minute of increasingly agitated attempts to light his cig.

Finally,  _finally_ , he took a deep, soul churning drag of nicotine and leaned his head against the cool brick of the building, eyes falling shut. Seconds ticked by. Then minutes. He grew relaxed, and ever so slowly the feeling of those nearly bestial eyes on him became a memory.

A dull thud hit the bricks next to his head and green eyes shot open to meet red, cigarette falling out of his mouth in his shock. Arthur was pinned by the albino's arms, and judging from the absolutely livid expression Gilbert wore, he was unlikely to be released soon.

Arthur's lips parted, and he inhaled as though to speak... but his mind was utterly blank. He couldn't even think to bring forth something as basic as a greeting. Pheromones were  _pouring_  from Gilbert's body: murderous aggression and arousal. Underneath those baser emotions was a soul rendering despair, but the second Arthur was able to lock onto this, the other Alpha's lips smashed into his own with bruising force, teeth clacking against teeth. A snarl ripped from Arthur's throat before he could even register anything but  _completion_. Fangs snapped at his lower lip, drawing blood, before moving down to snap threateningly at his throat. Nails - no,  _claws_  - dug into Arthur's shoulders, Gilbert's lean body pressing into his own to prevent movement.

There was no panic, no doubt or worry, strangely enough. This was  _right_  in a way that Arthur could not articulate, but it was  _wrong_ and his mate needed to be forced into submission.

_Mate?_

The thought flew out of his mind as immediately as it had come. His ears flattened against his head and he snarled again, almost yowling in rage and throwing all his weight behind him to push himself off of the side of the building. He leaped away from Gilbert, almost skidding on the asphalt before coming to a pseudo-crouch a few feet away. Gilbert stared at him for a moment, his expression a mask of shock and savage anger. Then it changed as he processed that he had lost his prey, and his mouth was a fanged, snarling gash when he dove at Arthur.

And  _there_  was the fear. Arthur scrambled to escape those claws, but to no avail. It was as though anger had consumed Gilbert completely - Arthur could see no trace of humanity in the man's eyes.

But he did not move. Those eyes bore into him like molten jewels, and bellicosity exuded from him - every puff of breath was like a punch to Arthur's jaw - as though he breathed pure fury.

_But he did not move._

Gilbert crouched above Arthur, strong arms trembling with the weight of some invisible struggle, and he took a deep, shuddering inhale.

"I owe you a favor." The albino's voice was dark and rough like sandpaper, and Arthur shivered, suddenly overwhelmingly aroused. He dare not move yet, however. The thought that something could seriously be wrong lingered, dampening any other primal feelings.

"What do you mean?" Arthur forced himself to keep his voice level. It was enough that he was fighting the other Alpha's crushing demand for submission, blow for blow in a battle of pheromones. He didn't need to upset the situation any more.

Gilbert's lips curled into a dangerous grin. "Come with me."

Arthur had hardly gotten to his feet when he was being dragged along into the alley between the bar and another building. He went along willingly, if only to see where all of this was leading.

When he was slammed against a building for the second time that night, the blond began quickly losing the little patience he possessed. His neck was immediately attacked, teeth and tongue scorching his skin like bursts of flame. For a single moment, he considered closing his eyes and giving in to the overall not unpleasant sensations...

And then his fist slammed into the albino's jaw.

After a moment or two, Gilbert's head snapped around, wild and murderous eyes meeting the burning emerald of Arthur's.

"Have you  _no_  self-control, man?" Arthur kept his voice and pheromones level, the continuous push of  _male_  and  _Alpha_  and  _dominance_  a steady stream, neither weakening nor strengthening, crashing into Gilbert's own more feral scent. While he ultimately wanted to de-escalate the situation, under no circumstances did he wish to appear weak. "If you need to say something, say it. Don't do something you would regret."

There was a stutter in Gilbert's pheremones, and his shoulders stooped a bit. The anger was... still present, but mostly gone in his scent. What Arthur got now instead was wave after wave of lust and arousal. He took a quick step back. This was getting very strange indeed, and Gilbert wasn't communicating with him at all. He understood the man was probably angry with him. But...

"What is going on?" Arthur murmured. "Are you in rut?"

Gilbert's eyes widened subtly, and he opened his mouth, pressed his lips together and then inhaled. "No." The reply was short, but it was said with an air of calm finality. "I...  I don't know what came over me. Is  _still_ happening to me." His accent was thick and words heavy and leaden. "I just... I nearly went crazy when I saw you on stage." His eyes burned a slow trail down Arthur's body. "I couldn't stand that other people were looking at you, lusting after you -- that you were clouding the room with your own pheromones and --" He shook his head in what was probably frustration.

_Jealousy?_ "Are you -- were you jealous?" Arthur gaped at the other Alpha with incredulity.

"I don't know!" He growled in frustration. Gilbert's ears, pressed back against his head, twitched. One of them came flicking up, twitching forward in Arthur's direction before coming back down. Groaning quietly, he tugged his hands through his hair and looked away for the first time since the confrontation began. He even turned, stalking away a few steps, then coming back around. Arthur eased his aggressive posture every so slightly. "I don't understand why I feel this way. I don't think I have any real emotional attachment to you? So I just - I don't understand." 

"I don't, either." Arthur was honestly at a loss. This confrontation had brought too many questions to the forefront, most of them very uncomfortable things to consider.

"Arthur." Gilbert was staring at him again, this time less threatening and more imploring. "I don't know if it will help, but..." He approached, and Arthur took a step back, hitting the wall. "I need this. Let me at least have this."

The Englishman had no idea what  _this_ was until Gilbert dropped gracelessly to his knees in front of him. Startled as he was, his muddled mind couldn't form words until his jeans were yanked down around his hips, and his half-hard cock (to Arthur's unending surprise) was revealed. Without any reticence, Gilbert wrapped his lips around it, the member sliding quickly down his throat and blanking the feline's mind with warm, wet heat. He could feel his cock filling out further, pressing against the roof of the canine's mouth and teeth; he winced as Gilbert drew back. The albino was unable to take the entire length in his mouth, but the pleasure was dizzying all the same. It was mesmerizing, how the white head bobbed up and down, blood red eyes fixed on Arthur's own with a fervor not unlike blood lust.

As nimble fingers threaded through those white locks, Gilbert briefly let his eyes fall shut in the small pleasure of nails scraping lightly against his scalp. His canid ears remained forward pointing, intent on the task at hand, though Arthur could almost feel Gilbert relax ever so slightly under his hands.

It was almost scary. He hadn't wanted to think about it... but what if these  _marks,_ this whole soulmate idea... What if they were being drawn to each other against their will? Maybe they realized it now, but would it remain that way? Would this effect their free will? Most people couldn't marry their soulmate -- after all, you only got one. And who could guarantee that you would be born in the same country, the same age group, the same  _time period_? That was just a fact. Wasn't this a thing to be cherished?

"Hey." Came the gruff, muffled grunt from between Arthur's legs. Gilbert licked a long stripe up the Brit's cock, pausing only to suckle lightly at the head, and the blond made a sound like he'd been gutted. "Stop thinking so much."

His hot mouth once again engulfed Arthur's length, and the feline's legs nearly buckled under him. He leaned against the wall in an attempt to hold himself up. Gilbert was right -- he was thinking  _way_ too much. The albino massaged his cock with one hand even as his worked the head with his mouth, and his other hand gently massaged his balls. No one had really given his sack much thought before. It was amazing. Suddenly, both hands were working the shaft, and Gilbert's wet tongue and hot breath were against his sack. He gently pulled one testis into his mouth, and Arthur stiffened until he realized that Gilbert was being uncharacteristically gentle. The fangs that had grown out in reaction to Gilbert's arousal and aggression barely even scraped Arthur. His legs were shaking now, the relentless slippery friction on his cock sending him closer and closer to the edge. Gilbert's eyes watched him with a predatory gaze, goading him and just daring him  _not_  to come. For a brief moment, Arthur considered the canine's pleasure being neglected. But that flew from his mind just as quickly as it had come. His fingers burrowed deeper into the snowy, gossamer hair at his groin, and he squeezed his eyes shut as another wave of pleasure rolled through him. He was getting close, and it was crazily fast for a blowjob but he couldn't find it in himself to care. 

That's what Arthur thought -- maybe another five minutes of this ( _if that_ ) and he'd be coming down Gilbert's throat. The image made him moan, imagining the fierce albino drinking down all of his cum. But then Gilbert moaned, deep and low, vibrating through his chest, and he reached down to rub the very obvious bulge in his pants. Arthur's hips bucked in response to the filthy sight at his feet, and Gilbert took it like a champ, valiantly trying not to choke on the length that was shoved down his throat. Watery red eyes glared up at the Brit, and he smiled sheepishly through the pleasure, muttering a soft apology and offering a soft caress. In silent acquiescence, Gilbert closed his eyes again, leaning his head very slightly into Arhtur's hand. In the back of the feline's fogged over mind, he was floored that Gilbert would willingly be like this with him.

Thoughts of the last time came back unbidden, images of blood and whimpers of pain, a limp body in his arms. He cringed away from it -- how could the spirited and beautiful and yes, almost  _vicious_ creature in front of him be that... that  _thing_ that he had... had  _forced_... 

"Hey." Gilbert had stopped any stimulation altogether, and was now gazing with open concern at Arthur. With a sudden uncomfortable mix of guilt and horror, he realized that Gilbert probably sensed the feline was greatly disturbed through the pheromones he now released unchecked.

When Arthur could do little more than grunt and offer a pained expression, Gilbert stood up.

"Are you okay?" The anxiety was rolling off of him in waves. "I mean. I know I kind of... forced this... but if it's -- I mean, are you okay?" He asked again. Arthur noticed that he was being given plenty of room -- an escape route if need be. But he rolled his eyes.

"I'm fine, you blooming nit." He grabbed Gilbert's arm, yanking the man into his chest and growling, "Finish what you started."

Lust and daring flickered back to life in Gilbert's eyes. He gripped Arthur's cock in a strong, firm hold, callouses grating against the delicate flesh in the most delicious way. The Brit's eyes fell shut again and he allowed the sensations take over. He didn't need to think, didn't need to do anything but feel. Ten minutes from now, a different story. But at this moment...

He leaned forward, catching Gilbert's lips between sharp teeth and drawing blood. The albino snarled and slammed into him, pinning him hard between the wall and the canine's lithe, muscular frame.

"What about you?" the blond found himself hissing, and Gilbert jerked his head side to side. "No?"

"Don't worry about it."

That... confused Arthur more than anything. This was out of the blue, initiated by the albino, and Gilbert didn't even want his own pleasure out of it? But that brought him back to the beginning:  _I don't know if it will help, but... I need this. Let me at least have this._

Arthur's legs were shaking, and he was left unable to spare any thoughts to the situation when Gilbert dropped down once more, greedily licking the shaft. A knot was valiantly struggling to form at the base of his cock, but was unable to due to the manner of stimulus. The Brit took a moment to be grateful for this before grabbing Gilbert's hair again, his sack drawing up and tightening.

"Gilbert --"

"I know." Red eyes flashed up to meet Arthur's. "Come."

And Arthur's body  _shook_  in the most earth-bending orgasm he'd ever had from a blowjob. He sagged against the wall, letting his body relax as Gilbert stood, barely noticing the man wiping his mouth with a grin.

Taking a moment to gather himself, he muttered, "I have to go back inside."

Gilbert snorted. "Maybe you should pull up your pants first."

Grunting, Arthur hitched his pants back up and docilely followed the other man back into the bar. He realized then that they had been gone for a good twenty minutes -- and Gilbert was supposed to be on the clock. 

The albino slid seamlessly back behind the counter. Antonio and another bartender had done an admirable job taking over in his absence, but as Arthur took a seat at the bar himself, he saw that the patrons loved Gilbert almost as much as Gilbert apparently loved serving them. He was exuberant, and had a loud and boisterous energy. As he bounced from order to order, occasionally stopping to chat, it was easy to see how well he enjoyed being around people. He didn't look one bit like he'd just been on his knees in an alleyway, sucking off another Alpha with that talented mouth --

He ended that train of thought before it could begin. He still had too many unanswered questions... so he resolved to sit there and wait.

And sure enough, the activity around the bar began to die down as the new DJ began to play some trap remixes. People were getting out onto the dance floor, only flitting back up to the bar to have drinks refilled. Gilbert slowly sidled over to Arthur, but neither said a word. The Brit nursed his third glass of gin as Gilbert leisurely picked his way through clean wet glasses with a rag. Arthur had so many questions, he couldn't even begin to sort through them, instead glancing up at Gilbert periodically.

When he pushed his glass forward for a refill, Gilbert shook his head in the negative, grabbing the glass and washing it.

"How's Alfred?"

It was an unexpected segue way to be sure, but it allowed Arthur to focus on something unrelated, something (for the time being) that he could think about with more ease. A small smile only just touched his lips. "He's on winter break right now. I'm sure your Ludwig is, too. He's having a grand old time, but his internal clock wants him up at seven, so I have a hard time sleeping in sometimes." He chuckled fondly, and found an answering smile on Gilbert's face, though it disappeared quickly.

"I feel responsible, in a way. For getting you kicked out of your place." He elaborated before Arthur could ask him to. "I just... how are you two holding up? I know it's really tough when you're on your own like this..."

"I'm not really on my own." Arthur shrugged, but a weary sort of anxiousness was creeping in, tightening the muscles of his shoulders. "All of my friends are very supportive."

For a moment, Gilbert hesitated, but seemed to push through this quickly. "Do you have any family to support you stateside?"

_Family?_ Arthur offered a derisive snort. No one had approved of his marriage to Francine, or his move to the States. One of his elder brothers had attempted to council him and to be supportive, but he came off just as arrogant as the rest. Since he'd notified them of the divorce procedings, he hadn't heard from anyone but his mother.

"No."

Gilbert nodded slowly, considering the information. "Well... my offer still stands. If you need any help with anything, I'm here. I mean, I'm not much better off than you are. But..." He shrugged helplessly. "If you need me to watch Alfred, I can do that." Smiling softly, he added, "Ludwig asks about him sometimes. I think he misses him."

"I started a new job recently." Arthur sighed, resting cheek on palm. "I could use the help."

Gilbert nodded. "Well then, you know I'm here."

Arthur sighed for what felt like the millionth time last night. He was no good at feelings, no good at these sentimental conversations. But he really needed this clarification. He needed to know what the fuck was going on. 

"About earlier --"

"Maybe we should talk about this another time." Gilbert cut him off quickly, as though the subject itself was toxic. And then he noticed the man's hands were shaking. "We can set up a time and date, we can get some coffee or something --"

"Tea," Arthur interrupted, "A place with good tea, and we'll consider it a date."

Gilbert flushed brightly, his pale skin only serving to betray him. "Date?"

"Well, you know. A date. A... you know."

"Yes."

"Hmm."

There was an awkward silence after that, remaining unbroken by the venue's patrons as they ordered drinks. After five minutes of this, Arthur got stiffly to his feet.

"I still have your number." He offered to Gilbert. The albino nodded, and that was that. The Brit stepped away to find his guitar. He slung the case over his shoulder and left the building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/N:
> 
> 1) mano bro
> 
> 2) sim yeah
> 
> 3) I'm going for more of a tribal look here
> 
>  
> 
> A/N:
> 
> So... This took a long time. I'm hoping this chapter was improved from the last ones, although I'll still mostly write for Gilbert. I find it challenging to write as Gilbert outside of the (well, my) mainverse. 
> 
> I am now working full time as well as attending college part time so please continue to be patient with me. I do not intend to drop this fanfiction or This House Is Not a Home.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought in the comments. Also, questions to consider: Where do you think these two will go from here? Is the soulmate thing bleeding into how they feeling about each other? Just what in the hell is going on?

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know how you think I did! I'm hoping to have another chapter out by Sunday, but I don't know. I've just been so behind in my writing :/


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